Too Close to the Ground
by sarahlizzie
Summary: AU. In 1983, Gabriel the Archangel fell, and lived a life among the humans, not knowing anything about his true identity. When he was 16, he met Sam Winchester, a boy who would change his life forever. Slash.
1. There's One Less Angel in Heaven

**A/N: I don't know how long this story is going to be, but I have a feeling it's going to be a long one. I already know exactly where it's going to go, however, and I know it's going to be schmoopy to the extreme. Enjoy!**

* * *

**C****hapter One: There****'****s One Less Angel in Heaven**

_If you had not have fallen, then I would not have found you…Angel flying too close to the ground_

"Hey…buddy."

Sam didn't know if the stranger was talking to him or not; though he doubted it. He was the new kid - quiet, obscure…strangely suspicious of everyone and everything around him.

"Dude…hey."

He continued to stare forward towards the front of the classroom and ignored the hissed whisper from the desk next to him.

He had been enrolled in the William Penn High School in Nanticoke, Pennsylvania while his brother and father hunted a coven of vampires who had been prowling the suburbs. Sam himself had broken his thumb during the last hunt, and had decided to sit this one out. Not that he was particularly sad about that.

"Yo, sasquatch!"

"What?" Sam blurted out, a little louder than he had meant to. He was sure, now, from the nickname, that the whispers were indeed directed at him. In the last few years, Sam had undergone a growth spurt of almost epic proportion; now he was less than an inch shy of his brother, who was four years his senior. The name sasquatch, as his brother often called him, though Sam hated it, did fit.

"Oh, so you respond to that."

Sam issued the smaller boy the bitchiest bitch-face he could muster.

"What is it you want?"

"Keep your voice down - teach'll hear us," the boy said, grinning widely. He turned in his seat to face Sam, crossing his legs as he did so. "So…word on the street is, you're like a super-genius."

Sam laughed. "What word? I've been here two days."

"Well…" he began matter-of-factly. "Suzie Two-Shoes over there made no secret of the fact that you got a higher grade than her on that latest assignment. Mr Thompson never gives out A-pluses."

Sam smiled a little smugly at that. "Really?"

"Hells yeah."

Sam turned back to his notes, still smiling a little.

"Yeah…my mom says that if I get another C, she'll cut off my ears, because - and I quote - 'If I'm not going to listen in class I might as well not listen to that God-forsaken music either.'" He rolled his eyes as the bell signalling the end of class rang out and people around them began to pack their things.

"Well," Sam said, standing. "I could always tutor you."

"Really?" He laughed, green eyes sparkling. They walked out into the crowded hall together - for the first time, Sam didn't feel alone in this school. "That'd be sweet!"

They crossed over the river of people in the hallway, Sam following the boy as he made a beeline to one of the lockers.

"My name's Gabriel, by the way," he said, opening his locker very slickly with a spin of the dial and a loud bang to its olive green door. "I know, it's a dumb name. My parents must have been high or something when they named me."

"I'm Sam." He simply stood gawkily, clutching books to his chest.

"Well, Sam…do you have a locker?"

As a reply, he held up his left palm for Gabriel to see. On it, smudged, were the numbers 'zero-five-six.' Sam looked a little sheepish. "I don't really…know where it is, though. I just carry my books with me."

Gabriel simply laughed. "I'll show you where it is later."

Sam smiled gratefully. Gabriel smiled back, before pulling a cherry flavored tootsie pop from the pocket of his jeans. He popped it in his mouth almost lazily. He leaned back against the lockers, closing his eyes and enjoying the bliss of the lollipop.

"…Sometimes I don't know how I get through classes without sugar." There was no reply from Sam, but Gabriel didn't take it as a bad sign – the kid was quiet anyway. "So…when and where are we going to stud…"

He was cut off when he re-opened his eyes. Sam was looking into Gabriel's locker, his expression serious.

Inside the door of the locker, as well as a timetable, were a number of drawings. One was of flames, just flames, eerie in black and white. Another was of a man with what looked like majestic black wings spread out behind him. The third was of a group of people looking out of the drawing, their eyes penetrating and a soulless, solid black.

Gabriel slammed the door of his locker, ashamed of what he had in there. Before the door was closed in front of his face, Sam had seen a single word scrawled under the drawing of the man with the wings – '_sword_.'

He laughed nervously, attempting to shrug what Sam had just seen off as nothing. "Dude…my brain…I don't even know what's going on in there sometimes."

The bell for the next class rang shrill and loud through the hallways and people around them began to disperse. Sam had study hall so wasn't in a rush.

"Oh shoot…I have to get to Philosophy." Gabriel pulled a pen from inside his bag. "Arm," he said simply, hardly waiting for Sam to present his arm before he grabbed his wrist and began to write on it.

_Gabriel Milton_

_2010 West Lane_

"If you're serious about this tutoring thing, come by here tomorrow night." When he saw Sam looking a little confused, he added: "Just take a left after the swimming pool."

Sam nodded and smiled, leaving his new friend as he got swept up in the flow of people.

Gabriel waited until Sam was out of sight and until the hallway was basically empty before opening his locker - he would rather risk being late for his class than have another person see his drawings. It freaked him out enough that every so often his hand would draw seemingly of its own accord.

When the visions had started a few years ago, Gabriel felt the importance to put them to paper - he had never known they would get so intense and creepy. He had never known they would make him the outcast of the class either.

Back in middle school, Gabriel had been the coolest kid who walked the halls; the class clown. At any one time you could bet on him having at least three girlfriends. But when he started high school, things began to change. He became the 'creepy kid' with all the 'weird drawings.'

Gabriel opened his hand, and saw that someone had slipped a note into it, crumpled. He unfolded it.

_Sam Wesson _

It was written in thin, spidery writing, and it made Gabriel smile to look at.

_Sam Wesson…_

Suddenly, Gabriel was struck by a flash of white light and behind his eyes flew dozens of disjointed pictures. He vaguely heard the metallic clash as he fell back against the lockers.

_Sam Wesson - a drone call-centre boy working in the world's smallest cubicle in the world's most boring company. Print, shred, fax, sharpen - repeat as necessary._

"_Yeah…okay…have you tried turning it off then on again? Let's try that. Yeah. Off…now on."_

_Sam Wesson watched a body being carried out on a stretcher…_

_Sam Wesson swung the iron rod, dissipating the spirit…_

_Sam Wesson's yellow shirt faded with reality…_

_Zachariah…_

When Gabriel came to, the first thing he saw was the blinding fluorescence of the school lights. There was a pounding in his skull like he'd never experienced. He saw people leaning over him – probably the stoner kids who lurked around the halls and never went to any classes.

"Dude…are you okay?"

Gabriel tried to sit up, but his brain was hammering against the inside of his skull like he was suffering the world's worst hangover. He hissed, slouching back against the lockers.

"I…I think…"

Images still swirled around in his brain: images of the man who shared Sam's name; images of the man called Zachariah…underneath his placid-looking face were others. Other faces more spectacular and at the same time more terrifying.

Gabriel grasped for his bag which was lying a few feet away to his left. Out of it he pulled a notebook full of pencilled drawings. He skipped forward to the first blank double page and began to draw.

He watched in horror as his hand drew itself a picture. It was of a man in a grey suit, but with three sets of massive black wings protruding from his back. His face was that of a lion – as imposing as it was grotesque.

Gabriel looked curiously at the image he had just watched himself draw. He never had any idea what any of it meant – the people with the black eyes; the winged men…it was all meaningless to him. This image scared Gabriel more than his others: the fact that this man – or _whatever _he was - had something to do with Sam.

_What. The hell__._

* * *

_**A/N: Sorry about chapter 8 of Morning Watch, those of you who care. I'm working on it, honest. **  
_


	2. Two's a Crowd

**A/N: Thanks for the great response to the first chapter! Here's no 2 'cause y'all have been so nice :)**

**

* * *

**

**_Because two__'s a crowd when rock stars buy you supper…_**

"Good day at school, Sammy?"

Sam sighed, throwing down his bag as he came in the door of their motel room. He shot his brother a glare.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Don't call me Sammy."

"I never agreed to this. Show me a lawyer and I'll call it so."

Sam flopped down on one of the beds, letting out a huff of air as he did so. "Where's Dad?"

Dean sat on the other bed, facing his brother. "He's off interviewing someone. And now _I'm _not allowed to go anywhere because _I _have to make _you_ supper."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sixteen; I think I can make my own cold cereal and milk."

Dean snickered and shook his head. "God, we're pathetic. Come on," he said, standing and grabbing his coat from the back of a chair. "Let's go out and get something to eat."

Sam smiled and followed suit. "Great…but how are you going to pay for it?"

Dean gave a wide grin and pulled a thin square of plastic from his pocket. He waved it around. "Guess what Dad finally got me? My own credit card! Well…" he paused, peering at the name embossed on the card. "James Page's own credit card."

"Awesome," Sam replied, laughing at his brother's enthusiasm towards the magical money card.

Stepping outside the motel, Dean immediately made a beeline for his beloved Impala. Sam got in the passenger seat, as per usual, as his Dad hadn't taught him how to drive yet and they never stayed in a town long enough for Sam to take a driver's ed class.

The Impala purred into life, and Dean had that impossibly happy look on his face that he had whenever he drove her. Ever since John had passed it down to him two years ago, he'd refused to go anywhere without it, even just down the road to a burger joint, like now.

"I'm gonna have to teach you how to drive someday, Sammy," he said, putting the car into reverse and pulling out of the parking spot.

"You'd let me drive the Impala?"

Dean had to really think about it, before saying, "Sure…I mean, you're flesh and blood. There has to be something in that metrosexual brain of yours that has an appreciation for a good old American car like my baby."

"I know that means a lot, coming from you."

"Thanks, Sam. You're my baby brother; it's my job to be protective. Of my car." Dean reached out a hand to try and ruffle Sam's persistently shaggy hair – he'd have to do something about that one day – but Sam dodged before he could. Dean let it go, not wanting to get in an accident, but spent the rest of the short journey plotting how he could get Sam's hair under control. Unfortunately for Sam, the idea of Nair plus shampoo bottle simply refused to leave Dean's mind.

When they reached the restaurant, those chose a booth that was a little out of the way, as was their custom – that way they could talk about things with out attracting too much attention. Sam looked the other way while Dean shamelessly flirted with the attractive waitress.

He ordered a Caesar salad when it was his turn to talk, and Dean got a bacon cheeseburger – extra ketchup. Sam would spend his life marvelling at how his brother could eat as much as he did and still not be obese.

As the waitress walked away, Dean hissed, "Man, we need to stop going out to restaurants together. People will think we're like…a couple or something."

"Yeah…God forbid you don't hook up when we go out to supper."

"Dude…it would really be a sin against heaven not to go for _that_." Sam watched his brothers eyes as they flitted appreciatively over the waitress.

Sam simply shook his head and swiftly changed the direction of the conversation. "So…I had a fun day at school. Got an A on my history test."

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "Atta boy, Sam. Way to make your big brother proud," he said sarcastically, taking a long gulp of his glass of water. Dean was counting down the days until January 24th 2000...the day he could finally legally have alcohol.

"I seem to recall you _failed _history when you were a junior."

"Sam…I think I failed everything except gym." He paused, thinking. "And lunch."

Sam laughed, smiling still as the waitress set down their meals. She made 'flirty-eyes' at Dean, leaning over a little too much, and showing a little too much cleavage. Not that that wasn't the perfect amount for Dean. Sam just knew that she was going to be one of those waitresses who came by every five minutes to 'see how they were doing,' and that he would just have to watch in awe as his big brother, even against all odds, picked up another potential lay.

"So…" Dean began from behind a mouthful of cheeseburger. "Make any new friends?"

"Actually, yes," Sam said a little smugly, picking up his fork and tucking into the strips of grilled chicken on top of his salad. He smiled at his brother.

Dean smiled knowingly back, nodding slowly. "Oh, yeah?" He chuckled. "What's her name?"

Sam almost choked on his salad.

"What? No…he's a guy."

Dean shrugged, licking his lips. "Well…each to his own."

"What? No! He's not…he's a _guy_. We're just friends."

"Okay…" he said, taking another gargantuan bite of his burger. "So did you get his number?"

"Shut up!" he said, reaching over the table to give his brother a well-deserved smack to the head. Dean caught his hand before he could, though, and twisted it. He caught sight of the writing on it from earlier and looked up at Sam, wagging his eyebrows.

"Hey…you got an address! Not to be presumptuous, Sam, but I think you're _in_."

"Fuck you."

"Gabriel, huh? What is he, Catholic?"

"I don't know, Dean! Look, I just met the guy this afternoon. We talked about school for about three minutes and he invited me over to his house to tutor him."

"Sam, I mean this most sincerely…I hope you score."

Sam decided not to prod the beast further, so just shook his head and settled into finishing off his salad. When the bowl was clean, and Dean had polished off his double-bacon-heart-attack with a contented groan, he thought it safe to speak up again.

"Seriously, though, Dean…he had all these creepy drawings in his locker."

Dean was suddenly serious. "What are you saying?" he asked as he set down his napkin.

"Well…I think the kid might be psychic."

"What were the drawings of?"

Sam coughed into the back of his hand. "That's the thing," he said. "I have no idea. There was one with all these people with creepy black eyes."

Dean raised an eyebrow, baffled.

"And then there was one of a guy with these gigantic wings."

"Like the guy from X-Men?"

"Yeah, exactly! But…they were black."

Dean nodded. "Well…I'm stumped." Sam was impressed that his brother would admit such a thing.

"Yeah…me too. It didn't look like anything I've ever seen…I mean, he was just…a normal man. He was wearing normal-people clothes and stuff."

Dean nodded again, biting the edge of his thumbnail like he did when he was a little anxious. "Tell you what," he finally said, leaning forward. "Go to this guy's house tomorrow, and see if you can bring us back one of his drawings for us to look at. I'll ask Dad if he's seen anything like that before."

Sam nodded, looking down a little sadly at his drink.

"Speaking of Dad, if he comes back and we're not there, he'll freak. Come on, let's go."

They both stood, and Sam made his way out to the Impala while Dean paid with his new money square and undoubtedly picked up the waitress' number.


	3. 333, the Number of the Beast's Vessel

Title: Too Close to the Ground

Author:**sarahlizzie**

Rating: PG-13 (NC-17 later)

Pairing: Sam/Gabriel

Spoilers: Passing references to episodes up to 5.19, but not spoilery

Word Count: ~1400 (this chapter)

Summary: In 1983, Gabriel the Archangel fell, and lived a life among the humans, not knowing anything of his true identity. When he's sixteen, he meets Sam Winchester, a boy who will change his life forever.

_Because in Gabriel's mind, matter is split into hadrons and lollipop__s and studying was destined to fail as soon as it began…_

_

* * *

_

Sam looked up at Gabriel's house.

He checked his arm again - sure enough, _2010 West Lane _was indeed the house he was looking at. It just…didn't seem like Gabriel's house.

He hadn't pegged him as being one of those well-off kids with the gigantic blue-shuttered houses and the white picket fences…and yet here he stood, in front of 2010 West Lane, down the road from the swimming pool.

Well.

Sam tentatively pushed open the front gate with a resounding creak and walked up the front path, still hardly at ease. These kinds of houses always freaked him out - he knew from personal experience that the haunted houses are always the über-creepy unsuspecting ones. And if Dean was here, he would chime in about now and say some quip about Sam watching too much 'Desperate Housewives', but…who knew what went on behind these walls?

He pressed firmly on the doorbell, and heard its chime resound through the house. Almost as soon as he did so he heard the shrill yaps of what was unmistakably a small dog from behind the door, sharp and insistent and _so annoying_.

Soon enough the door opened, revealing a grinning Gabriel.

"Sammy! You made it!"

He was about to retort and tell him not to call him that, but he found that when Gabriel did, he didn't mind.

"Come on in…" Sam came in the door, was daunted by the large hallway. The house was very clean and looked big from the white walls and pale floorboards. Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets, as was his habit when he was uncomfortable or shy.

"Hey…Sam. Unclench. Kick off your shoes; stay a while." Gabriel laughed, bending down to pick up the dog that had been yapping at Sam's feet. Sam smiled and scratched the dog's head, and he could swear it looked genuinely happy.

"Could you eat?" he asked Sam. "I could eat." Sam, still smiling and still a little stumped at his gigantic house, followed Gabriel into the kitchen. "See if my mom has bought me anymore of my drugs."

Sam cocked an eyebrow as he watched Gabriel open a cupboard and pull out a new box of frosted blueberry pop tarts victoriously.

"Yes!" Gabriel ripped open a pack and immediately tucked into a tart, not even bothering to toast it. "Want one, Sam?"

"I'm cool. I just ate."

"Alrighty then. Well do you want a drink? We have soda."

"Yeah, okay."

"Orange Slice? Sorry it's Diet."

Gabriel opened up the fridge door, tossing Sam an ice cold can.

"Thanks."

"Oh no, no, no…" Gabriel replied, pointing at Sam in a comical way and making him smile. "Thank _you._"

Sam grinned as he followed Gabriel out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Why?"

"_You_, my friend, are the guest of honor. Believe me, my mom's gonna be all over you when she finds out you're the one who's tutoring me." He turned a corner once he reached the top of the stairs, walking into what Sam could only assume was his bedroom.

"So…let's review. Matter is split into…?"

"Hadrons…and…um?"

"Llll…"

"Lllll….lollipops."

"Leptons."

"I knew that."

"Okay…" Sam muttered, slamming the physics book shut. "Let's move on to something else." He leafed through the untidy pile of Gabriel's notes. "What classes are you taking again?" he asked, not being able to find the report card they'd looked at earlier.

"Um…art, but I'm getting an A in that, so it's cool…And I'm taking this AP Philosohpy class which is kind of awesome, especially seeing as I'm acing that too…and…"

"Philosophy? Sounds interesting."

"Oh, yeah...it is." Gabriel stopped his leafing and turned to face Sam. He sat cross-legged, his face eager. "I know I sound like such a dork, but you know...I love to argue. Like, 'is this chair really here, or are we just brains on a bench?' 'Are we living in the Matrix? Is it all an illusion?'" Gabriel laughed. "Fascinating stuff, I'll tell ya."

Sam smiled. "Right, so…is the universe like a watch?"

"Yes," Gabriel said, straightening his back and acting like some sort of professor. "It's very intricate and it looks like someone designed it. It is not an accident."

They both laughed now. "That is, unless…" Gabriel lifted a finger intellectually. "There are billions of universes, in which case it stands to reason that one of them would have turned out like this one."

"Sounds like you're having a lot of fun in that class."

"Dude," Gabriel said, picking up his soda and taking a long swig. "Tell you what, do the classes you like. It's worth it."

Sam finished off his soda too, and threw it across the room and directly into a little metal trash can.

"Good aim."

"Thanks. My Dad…um…used to take me shooting. Like, cans and stuff." Sam had always been an awful liar, so kept his head down while he told this particular half-truth.

There was silence for a few moments, before Sam asked, "So, you're into Philosophy…does that mean you're religious?"

"I dunno," Gabriel began, "I mean, my parents are. My name, right? But me?" He paused, taking another sip of soda and shuffling closer to Sam to get his full attention. "I guess so…maybe. I'm not so devout or anything, not like the parentals, but…it's sort of like, show me God, and I'll show you my faith. Sometimes it's hard to believe sometimes."

"So…not exactly atheist…but…"

"Right. I just feel like, seeing is believing. And it's not like I haven't looked at the evidence you know? There's a difference between being atheist and being agnostic and I say there's no excuse for being the latter."

Sam smiled and raised his eyebrows. "It's fun getting you worked up. Remind me to do that more often."

"Seriously. There are atheists out there who know more than most Christians. I dunno. What about you?"

Sam just smiled and looked down. "Well, I guess I'm the opposite. My family…let's put it this way. I think if my family went on consecrated ground they'd spontaneously combust. But I'd like to think there's something…someone…out there – or up there – looking after me. I've not exactly had the best life."

Gabriel looked pityingly into Sam's eyes, cocking his head to the side.

"Faith…I guess it's good. If you don't have faith in something, why bother even…? I don't know."

"…I get what you mean."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They sat in silence again, just smiling at each other. Gabriel broke it first.

"So…let's take a break from studying."

Sam chuckled, reaching for books again. "But we just started…!"

"We've done enough. I have a game."

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. "What game?" he asked, exasperated.

"It's called…the Serious Game. You have to stay totally serious, okay? Here's how it's gonna be." Sam laughed and nodded, shifting to face Gabriel. "I'll say a word, and you say a word of the same…caliber. But you _can't laugh_, okay?"

"Roger that."

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. "Ready? Okay…scrotum."

Just as Gabriel had probably planned, Sam burst out laughing. He watched Gabriel smirk at him, trying not to laugh himself. "You suck at this game, Sammy."

"Bite me," Sam replied between laughs.

"At least let me buy you supper first!" Gabriel joked, placing a hand to his chest. Sam clutched his stomach as he was attacked by another laughing fit.

Gabriel couldn't help himself anymore, and followed suit. He hadn't bothered to inform Sam that the point of the 'serious game' is that you end up with unstoppable giggles.

They didn't get much studying done after that, but Gabriel didn't mind. Sam stayed the rest of the evening, and Gabriel's mom had ended up bringing them up sandwiches and ice cream for supper. It was perfect.

Sam had to go at nine, but he'd promised to come back again, and 'study' some more. Gabriel waved at him from the window, wishing he could've stayed.

He'd just met the guy, but he couldn't stop thinking about him.

As Sam walked away from the house, coat wrapped closer to him as snow began to fall gently in big, wet flakes, he checked his book bag. Sure enough, the drawing was still there; a drawing of a man with wings that Sam had nabbed when Gabriel was taking the dishes back downstairs.


	4. 400 Channels and Nothing's On

**A/N: Dan – just as an explanation – is omnipresent in my fics. It's a sort of inside joke. Just go along with it.**

* * *

"Yeah, no, Sam, that's definitely weird. Keep an eye on this guy, okay?"

John folded and tucked the drawing into one of his bags.

"Yessir."

Sam looked up at his father, searching for a smile of approval, or a wink, or _something _that told him he'd done well. He scowled when John left the room, probably not to come back for a few days at least, without as much as another word to Sam.

How was that fair? Dean got winks and 'Nice one, son's all the time.

Sam wrinkled his nose and gladly twisted open the root beer Dean tossed him from the mini-fridge. He would never get the hang of opening them quite as smoothly as Dean did, and often he got little nicks in the skin between his left thumb and forefinger.

_Maybe I could write my assignment on __sibling rivalry_, Sam wondered idly, drinking from the brown bottle.

His random wonderings continued in that same vein, as he thought about what he would write. He considered picking up a notebook and jotting down the odd sentences that popped into his head but couldn't really be bothered to move.

He'd ask Gabriel about it, he decided. He realized he didn't know much about the guy, and his ambling thoughts led him to wonder if _he _had any siblings. While he was at it, he'd probably ask him if he was a vegetarian or not. Or what his opinion was on country music.

Sam fell asleep in the chair with weak winter sun pouring in through the blinds, thinking about how awesome it was to finally have someone to spend the weekends with.

* * *

"This is not acceptable. I don't get sick!"

Sam leant against the ugly lockers, books in arm, laughing to himself at Gabriel's reaction to the common cold he'd caught.

"It's not funny, Sam." He slammed his locker shut. Ever since the day he met him, Sam had respected his privacy and stood so he could never see what was inside his locker. "Illness," he began stabbing a finger to prove a point, "is for _weak _people."

Sam smiled, wide and toothy. "It's not that bad, Gabe…"

Gabriel glanced at him, exasperated. "It is that bad! You don't understand: I never get sick. Literally, _never_." He sneezed into his sleeve. It was so endearing and Gabe looked so pissed at himself for doing it that it just made Sam laugh more.

Gabriel sniffled, and looked up at Sam, looking very forlorn. Sam offered him a Kleenex from his pocket, and Gabriel grimaced and took it reluctantly.

Sam couldn't resist letting out an 'Aww', knowing it would annoy him even more. He grabbed his shoulders and turned him, pointing him towards his next class. He watched Gabriel walk away, shaking his head and smiling.

He only noticed he was a little late for class when the hallways began to empty of people. He picked up his backpack, which he had left on the floor by Gabriel's locker. When he turned back around, the hallway was almost empty, except for a group of people by the lockers on the other side of the hallway, a little closer to the Philosophy classroom than Sam was.

It was a group of football jocks, sporting green and white jerseys and surrounding someone, who they'd pushed up against the lockers. It only took Sam a few seconds and a handful of steps up to them to realize that that someone was Gabriel.

"Hey!" shouted Sam, suddenly full of rage as he walked up to them. "Leave him alone!"

He thought he heard Gabriel say 'Sam, don't get involved!' but he ignored him. Gabriel was silenced by a punch to the stomach, anyway.

Sam walked up to the biggest one and grabbed him by the shoulder. He turned round to look him in the eye. Sam had already gained enough motivation to punch the guy from what he'd seen, but as he lifted his fist to what would have been the perfect hit to the jaw, hands from behind stopped him.

The big guy relaxed his grip on Gabriel and turned his attention to Sam instead. Sam himself looked him defiantly in the eye, despite being held fast by a number of strong hands.

He laughed. "So who's this, huh?" he addressed Gabriel, the arm across his collar pressing him further into the lockers. "Who is he? Your boyfriend?"

Gabriel yelped, and watched Sam in horror as his eyes widened. "What?" Sam asked, truly puzzled.

"You heard me," the big guy – if forced to, Sam would say his name was Dan – laughed.

He looked pointedly at Sam, who still looked bemused and lost. "You mean to tell me you don't know?"

"Don't know _what?_"

Dan laughed, throwing his head back in utter glee. Sam simply glanced at Gabriel for an explanation, but his head was bowed, cheeks red. "Your little buddy here," he said, picking Gabriel fully up from the ground and slamming him into the lockers. Sam struggled against the hands holding him. "He...uh…let's just say he bats for the other team."

Sam could've sworn he heard Gabriel growling. He was pissed, but powerless to do anything.

"You're…"

"Yes, that's right," laughed Dan, who seemed to take extreme pleasure in outing Gabriel. "Our little Gabe's gay."

Sam scowled, gazing at Gabriel's bowed head. "That true?" he asked softly, to no reply.

"Sammy, would I lie to you?" Dan asked with a sneer.

Sam's expression turned from one of confusion to one of what could only be described as pure anger.

"_Don't_…call me Sammy."

With the combination of a strong stamp to the foot and a militarily precise backwards head butt, Sam was free of the guy behind him.

Before the other two – who were holding his arms on either side - could blink, he had freed his arms with a basic maneuver Dad had taught him when he was about ten.

In the next blink, he'd smashed their heads together, leaving them dazed and confused, and leaving Sam free.

Dan looked impressed, if anything. That was, until, Sam had a grip on his throat.

"What were you saying?"

"I…uh…"

"What I thought." Dan cowered under Sam's harsh stare. "Now…back. Off."

He did.

With a smile, Sam watched him release his grip on Gabriel and walk away with what ounce of dignity he had left, tail between his legs. He didn't look back, and the other footballers followed like loyal, shamed soldiers.

He turned back to Gabriel, who looked utterly pathetic with a swollen lip, and a hand clutching his stomach. Sam's immediate instinct was to put an arm around Gabriel, and take the weight of his injuries – he'd done it plenty of times for his brother and dad – but Gabriel tensed at his touch.

"Come on," he pleaded, not letting go and trying to get some sense into him. If Gabriel didn't like human contact he'd have to deal with it. "Let's get you to the nurse's office."

"Mmm…Sam," Gabriel mumbled, finally relaxing in Sam's arms as he tugged him down the hallway. "You didn't have to do that."

Sam simply laughed. "'Course I did. Don't be stupid."

There was a moment of silence, before Sam asked quietly: "Is all that true?" He looked down at Gabriel, still slung over his shoulder. Gabriel's gaze was elsewhere, steadfastly refusing to meet Sam's eyes.

"Is all _what_ true?" he asked snarkily back, despite knowing exactly what Sam was referring to. Before he had the chance to reply, he spoke. "Alright. At the risk of totally freaking you out and losing you as a friend…" he sighed, tensing when the deep breath made the muscles in his torso ache. "…then, yeah it's all true."

There was a moment of silence, Gabriel fully expecting to be dropped and told to go to the nurse's office on his own.

But he wasn't. In fact, Sam's grip on Gabriel tightened for a second, in a sort of pathetic half-hug.

"Dude, it's not like I'm going to stop being your friend just because you like guys." Sam laughed, and Gabriel smiled, just about as happy as he'd been in a while.

There was a silence that was only slightly awkward. "So…" Sam began. "You like guys?"

Gabriel coughed. "Ahem…let's just say I like to eat from both sides of the cheesecake."

"…I wasn't aware that there was more than one side to a cheesecake."

"Oh, Sam," Gabriel laughed. "So much to learn."

* * *

When Sam arrived at school the next day, he was greeted with a tidal wave of laughter.

They weren't laughing at him, but rather the posters that had been put up all over school early this morning. On every other locker, on all the notice boards, on doors, in bathrooms – everywhere.

All photoshopped pictures of Dan in a very compromising homoerotic position.

It was, Sam had to admit, freaking hilarious. And he had a pretty good idea who was behind it.

"You're awful," he said, smirking, as he walked up to Gabriel. He smiled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied with a wink. "But…" he said, leaning in closer to Sam so he could hear his whisper, "…bastard had it coming."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. Sure, he felt sorry for Dan, but it _was_ true that he did deserve it. Needless to say, he probably wouldn't be bothering Gabriel or anybody else for a while.

With a malevolent smirk, Gabriel pulled down the nearest poster, folded it up small and slipped it into his front pocket.

"Time for class, Sam?" he said, unable to wipe the insane grin off his face.


	5. Five Bottles of Beer on the Wall

**Cred to: highermagic, who came up with some of the best ideas in this fic. She's also an awesome beta. Chuck bless her.**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Kripke and his posse of evil.**

**A/N: Here's the idea – Michelle/Ruby is the girl who is to become Ruby's vessel. (Mini-Gen, got me?) Coincidence, am I right? ;)**

The next few days passed uneventfully for Sam. He went to school, tried to hide the fact that his extra-curricular activities included burning corpses, and tutored Gabriel just about every other day.

Well, 'tutored' was a loose term – it was closer to 'spend ten minutes _attempting _to tutor Gabriel and ending up just laughing and talking and watching in awe as Gabriel practically vacuumed up a whole tub of Ben & Jerry's.'

Despite this, _something _seemed to have gone in, because Gabriel walked proudly out of his Physics class towards Sam after school one day, waving a B plus around happily.

Gabriel cheered. "Yes! Sammy…I owe you one." He reached up to ruffle Sam's hair, and Sam let him, if reluctantly. "Let's go to my house and celebrate, huh? What do you say, hmm?" Gabriel waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I have ice cream…!" he added in a sing-song voice.

Sam laughed. "Sure, whatever. But I gotta be back home by 8 tonight, ok?" He neglected to add that this was because Dean had target practice planned, and this was apparently very important to Dean.

Turning around, he grabbed some things out of his locker, but as he turned back, about to ask Gabriel what flavor ice cream he had today, he saw Gabriel looking with awe – and what might almost be called fright – down the hallway.

Looking to where Gabriel was staring, he saw a group of about five girls, all wearing the school's green and white cheerleader uniforms, all walking _directly towards them_.

Gabriel stuttered, telling Sam that something had come up, that he'd see him tomorrow.

When Sam blinked, he was gone.

Don't get him wrong, Sam was fine with talking to girls, but when five very pretty, very powerful-looking girls bear down on you with identical predatory glints in their eyes and look like they're about to eat your flesh, it's slightly terrifying – and that was coming from Sam who killed 'terrifying' for a living.

He sincerely hoped that Dan wasn't one of their boyfriends.

"Hi, Sam," the one at the front said, long brown hair tied up in a tidy ponytail. He wasn't even going to ask how she knew his name. "So…word on the street is, you _totally _beat up Dan and his idiot jock friends…"

Sam wondered what this street was and why his name was always on it.

"…that was so brave. I like a guy who can stand up for his friends." She smiled, something that almost made Sam physically _shiver_.

"Um…really?" He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down – he would never admit to anyone that this was because looking into her eyes simply intimidated him.

"Yeah…" The brunette walked up to him, leaving the other girls behind. "It means you're _sensitive_."

"Um…ok."

"Oh, I'm so silly," she laughed, "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Michelle…"

"Hi, Michelle,"

"…But all my friends call me Ruby. It's my birthstone."

"…Hi, Ruby."

"So anyway," she said, inching a little further towards Sam, and giving her ponytail a little flick. "The reason I came over here is because I'm throwing a party this Saturday and I'd love it if you could come." She smiled, flashing perfect, white teeth. "My folks are away this weekend."

Sam smiled too, feeling a little more relaxed now. She wasn't going to eat him alive, which was good. And it sounded like she legitimately wanted to be friends with him, for one reason or another. "Sounds fun."

Ruby laughed. "It's going to be awesome." She gave her perfectly glossed lips a little pout as she leaned in to whisper to Sam. "Especially if you're there."

As he watched her walk away, Sam tried desperately to stop the rising blush on his cheeks.

"Don't get me wong, Phhhhysics is ffffine, onthe you know what you're doin'…" said Gabriel, spoon hanging out of his mouth. He'd finished the ice cream a while ago, and took to sucking on the spoon instead. "Sammy, ya listenin'?" Gabriel clicked his fingers in front of Sam's face.

To tell the truth, he hadn't been.

"What? Um…sorry." Sam laughed nervously, hoping Gabriel wasn't too mad. Gabriel just glanced at him, one eyebrow cocked.

"Your mind is on Jupiter today, Sam. What's up?"

They were both sitting on Gabriel's bed, surrounded by papers and notes, the radio playing quietly in the background, which was how things usually ended up when the two of them tried to study.

"Um…" Sam said, frowning in concentration as he tried to find the words to explain what was going through his head. He settled for a sort of circular hand motion that he hoped would encompass what he was trying to get across. "…Ruby."

Gabriel groaned, finally pulling out the spoon. "Ugh, speaking of the _she-devil_…what exactly did she say to you?"

Sam let out a single, bitter laugh. "I take it you don't like her."

"Single most terrifying person I know. Continue."

Sam looked down, pulling at a loose thread in his shirt. "Well, she's uh…having a party this weekend, and she invited me." Sam didn't know why he was so uncomfortable telling Gabriel this. Maybe because he hadn't been invited? Sam didn't think so; Gabriel had made it very clear that he _really_ didn't like Ruby and probably wouldn't have wanted to go even if he _had _been invited. "Ahem…that's it. We talked for about two minutes, and then she left."

"She didn't try to flirt with you?"

Sam coughed. "Um…"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother. Please, Sam, stay away from her." He looked like he was about to protest, but Gabriel silenced him. "Come on! Sammy, listen." He planted his hands on Sam's shoulders and forced him to look at him. He spoke frankly. "If she's invited you to this party, it just means she wants to get in your pants…"

"…Gabe, I'm sure that's not why…"

"…trust me, Sam." Gabriel wiggled his shoulders to try and get the point across. "She's not somebody you want to get involved with."

Sam glanced at him skeptically for a moment, before conceding. "Alright then. Well, if you're so worried about my _virtue_, then come along to the party and protect it yourself."

Gabriel scowled, looking reluctant. There was a moment of tense silence. "Fine," he said eventually, unable to deny the puppy dog eyes Sam flashed his way. "But I'm _not _going to enjoy it," he told Sam, the hint of a smile on his face.

Sam grinned. "Anyway, dude. You have nothing to worry about." He shifted, picking up some of Gabriel's notes. "I'm not attracted to _her_."

Cocking his head to the side, and trying to catch Sam's eye, Gabriel seriously considered asking him who he _was _attracted to. He thought about it, but then thought better of it, resigning himself to blissful ignorance and the brief flare of hope in his chest.

Gabriel just smiled and cranked the radio up, because his favorite song had just come on. Sam burst out laughing.

"What?"

"Um…I dunno. The air drumming a little much maybe?"

Gabriel's arms froze. "I can air drum if I want to."

"No, it's just…this song. My brother loves it."

Gabriel nodded appreciatively. "Your brother's an Asia fan? Remind me why the two of us haven't met."

Sam chuckled. "He's not much of a people person."

Gabriel just smiled and resumed his air drumming. Sam half-groaned-half-laughed when he started singing.

There was a sharp rap on the door, and without waiting for a reply, Gabriel's sister walked in.

"Will you two _please _keep it down?" She stood in the doorway, hand on her hip. "I'm _trying _to study!"

"Well, then, _youuu're _a loser," Gabriel snapped snarkily back, reaching over and turning up the music.

Anna was a freshman at their school. Sam had seen her around when he'd come to Gabriel's house before, but she spent most of her time in her room, and they'd hardly said two words to each other.

"You're the one who's a loser! Ugh!" Anna stomped off angrily from the room, again ignoring Sam.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, in a way so over dramatic and so _Gabriel _that Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Kid sisters," he said, shrugging. "What can you do? Most annoying things ever." He shouted over the music. "Wear some earplugs!"

Sam was vaguely aware that he had laughed more in the last week, since he'd met Gabriel, than he had in the rest of his life.

**A/N: I'm planning to put some outtakes from this verse on my twitter, so if you're interested, follow me there, at the same username. :)**


	6. Six Minutes in Heaven

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Kripke and his posse of evil.**

**AN: Righto, folks, this is where the slash begins! *swoons* I've been planning this chapter since I first thought of this fic. It's cliché, I know, but eep! *swoons again***

_Six minutes in Heaven...one minute in Hell.  
_

When Sam stepped into Ruby's house, Gabriel in tow, he had to take a deep breath. What he saw wasn't exactly unexpected, but rather a little overwhelming.

Sure, Sam had used a fake ID to get into various college parties and bars if it would help with a case, and those had been pretty wild – but that was a job, and he didn't join in.

This was different: at this party, he had his best friend all but clinging on to his arm and looking like he wasn't having a good time at all, and a girl who – according to Gabriel – wanted to get with Sam. All that combined with too much alcohol led to a night that was somewhat stressful.

Sam wasn't much of a drinker, despite the rest of his family practically depending on it to function, but he wasn't tee-total either. So, yeah, okay, maybe he was drinking a _little _too much at this party, but he knew how to handle himself, and was still aware of reality, if only vaguely.

That didn't explain how he'd ended up in the circle of people playing spin the bottle like a bunch of 6th graders, though.

Instead of the usual 'kiss-the-person-the-bottle-lands-on' game, Ruby's game was a little different. She would offer the 'victim' a choice: 'dare or dare?'

"Hmm, I wonder. It's a toughie," said the guy next to Sam – someone whose name he didn't know. "Can I phone a friend?"

The circle laughed. Things like that were much funnier when you've had something to drink.

"Dare."

"Okay," Ruby said, languishing over her idea. She put a finger to her chin in mock thought, though it was clear by the glint in her eyes that she'd already thought of a suitable torture.

It was obvious that she was master of this game, and nobody could take that away from her.

Sam's turn to be landed on came too quickly – he wasn't sure he was ready for whatever Ruby had in store for him; even less sure with the look she gave him.

"Alright Sam, dare or dare?"

"Not as though I have much of a choice, so," he sighed, accepting his fate. "Dare."

"Hmm," she said, mulling over – or appearing to mull over – options in her head. Sam bit his lip. Whatever she came up with, it sure as hell wasn't going to be fun. "What kind of dare should I give Sam Wesson? I know…"

Sam gulped.

"You have to take a spin," she gestured to the bottle. "…And whoever it lands on, you have to do seven minutes in heaven with."

A series of whoops and cheers went round the circle. Sam blushed violently, but, having lost rational thought and the power of sensible decision making, reached over to spin the bottle to many cheers. Sam watched Ruby watch it spin – she was glaring at it as though she was willing it to stop in a particular place. It spun for a long time, Sam obviously having spun it rather vigorously.

It finally slowed, reluctantly completing one more cycle, all the way, past Ruby, almost back to point at Sam, but instead coming to a rest to the person next to him.

Pointed right at Gabriel.

Who immediately went bright red.

Sam suddenly felt the odd sensation of being wrapped up in a giant, horrible cliché, when he felt maybe a half dozen hands pulling him up. There were cheers and wolf-whistles, and he saw Ruby grinning to his left.

"Calm down, Sammy," – he bit back a growl; that was _not _okay – " You don't have to _do _anything," she said with a smile. She may have _said _that but the expression on her face made it clear that she _meant_: 'I want you to do something.'

He was sure the room was spinning. Having alcohol in your system was okay when you were walking, when you were in control of your body, but when other people were pulling you somewhere, it was totally not cool. Sam was feeling like he wanted to fall asleep and throw up at the same time.

There was nothing wrong with this particular game – maybe it was a little overdone, but it was something Sam used to take particular delight in; way back in middle school, but still. To get a cute girl to do 'Seven Minutes in Heaven' was the epitome of awesome for a twelve year old. But with a guy? That wasn't exactly in Sam's realm of experience and nor did he particularly want to make it so.

But Gabriel? Maybe that was a different matter. Gabriel'd turn it into a joke; he'd make Sam laugh and he'd still make it awesome, just because he was Gabriel, and he'd really try to not make it awkward. Sam didn't know what it was – he'd tell himself later that it was the alcohol - but he briefly wondered what it _would_ be like to kiss him.

Before Sam knew it, he was being manhandled into a closet, with shelves surrounding him on every side. He watched with a certain reverence as Gabriel was forced into the closet too – there had been enough room Sam on his own, but with another person in there, small as he may have been, it was a tight fit. They both turned to watch the door close behind them, last slivers of light disappearing, along with the laughter on the other side of the door and any chance of freedom.

They were thrust into darkness and silence, the only sound their own heavy breathing. Neither of them could really move much, shelves pressing into their backs if they tried to. They stood there in silence for a moment, chests flush, when Sam felt Gabriel's move in a silent laugh.

It wasn't long before Sam was laughing too, so relieved that this wasn't going to be as incredibly awkward as he'd thought.

"This is so stupid," Sam whispered eventually, letting his laughter die down. He wasn't sure if people were listening on the other side of the door or not – still, it seemed appropriate to whisper.

He could practically _hear _Gabriel grinning. "Yeah, trust Ruby to be this immature." He shifted, having to relieve an itch on his neck. Gabriel was _warm_, and this close, in the tiny little closet, at this party which was well-heated anyway, Sam was beginning to feel pretty damn uncomfortable in this closet. He pulled on the collar of his shirt in a vain attempt to fan himself.

"Warm in here," he said uselessly, not wanting there to be silence for very long.

"Yep," Gabriel replied, chest beginning to shake with laughter again.

"What's so funny?"

He shifted again, and if Sam had been able to see, Gabe would have had that crinkly-eyed smile on his face that meant he thought Sam was being amusing. "Sam, you know," Gabriel shook his head. "It doesn't have to be stupid."

Sam frowned in confusion; that wasn't much of an answer. "Huh?" he asked, but it was sort of an aborted sound, because in that instant he felt Gabriel's warm palm on his arm.

Sam's body was suddenly in panic mode. His heart rate went sky high, and his eyes popped open. Gabriel was really going to do this. The touch on his arm was tender, electric – and it scared the living crap out of Sam. Everything Sam had been pre-programmed with was saying no, telling Sam's arms to push Gabriel away, or to shrug off the hand that had now reached his shoulder. The only thing was, Sam's arms refused to listen.

Maybe it was because of some sort of morbid curiosity that Sam didn't pull away; or maybe he was scared beyond moving. Either way, Gabriel was closer now, if that was possible, and Sam felt himself subconsciously settling into his touch.

"I don't know if you're drunk enough to do this, but…" Gabriel said, barely a whisper. His hand, somehow, had made its way up to Sam's neck, and was settled there, too hot and too much. Still, Sam didn't stop him – not even when the hand put slight pressure to pull him downwards. In fact, for some reason, Sam followed willingly.

Sam could feel Gabriel's breath on his lips now, warm and inviting and smelling like liqourice. His eyes fell closed.

"Just stop me," he muttered, and Sam could feel the words against his own lips. His breath caught in his throat, jarring like it was his last. Before he knew it, he felt the soft press of Gabriel's lips on his, warm and chaste.

By now, Sam's heart was practically ready to beat out of his chest. Kissing Gabriel, he soon realized, was something he should have been doing a long time ago, because even the lightest touch of lips from him was addictive. Sam surprised both Gabriel and himself by chasing his lips when he tried to break away.

When he did pull away, there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing in the room, and the feel of each other's breaths, warm and heavy in the air, pressing close.

Gabriel's other hand was on the shelving near Sam's hip, effectively trapping him. "Oh, God, Sammy…stop me," he repeated, lunging forward again and capturing Sam's lips in another kiss, this one deeper and more desperate.

Sam didn't panic this time, though his heart was still beating like a wild horse. When Gabriel's tongue tentatively brushed against Sam's lips, he welcomed it. Sam didn't want to stop him, not at all. The kiss was far from perfect, all hot tongues too nervous to really brush against each other, slight clash of teeth, but it _was _perfect, because it was Gabriel, and Sam couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else – not any guy, at least.

There was a loud giggle on the other side of the door, and several insistent knocks, which told them their seven minutes were up. Reluctantly, Gabriel pulled away, and reached up with the hand that had been on Sam's neck to ruffle his hair. "Be cool, okay?" he mumbled. Sam just nodded.

The door opened and light poured in, hurting Sam's eyes. Reality hit him as the light did, almost like a battering ram.

"Who's next ladies?" Gabriel called, and Sam knew he'd be smirking as he leant coolly against the door frame, even though he couldn't see his face. It was all a little bit of a blur, and he heard the giggles and rushes of a handful of girls towards Gabriel as though from underwater.

As he managed to somehow slip out of the closet unnoticed, one thought ran through his mind on repeat.

_What the hell did I just do?_


	7. A Little Less Seven Candles

It didn't take long for Ruby to pull him aside. So much for quietly freaking out in the corner like he'd planned.

"Hi…you stink."

As a response, she just giggled inanely. "I made a bet with…um…girl, over there…to see who could drink more while you were in the closet." She chuckled to herself, lifting up her hand to show a five dollar bill, which she rolled between her fingers before stuffing it into her bra. "I won."

"I can see that," Sam said. He may have been tipsy, but definitely not too tipsy to see what Ruby was up to. Especially not when she leered at him and slowly backed him against the wall.

"So…" she began with a smile, curling her tongue around her teeth. "What exactly _did _you do in the closet?" She giggled again.

"Uh…" Sam said, Ruby's sudden proximity making him more uncomfortable than he already had been.

She took his non-answer as a signal to keep asking. "Did you _make out_? Huh?" Ruby laughed again, placing a hand against her mouth in what looked like a semi-well-disguised attempt to stop herself from throwing up.

She was leaning closer now, practically touching Sam, who had his back pressed up as close as it could get to the wall. She reached up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "'Cause if you did? That's _hot_."

And just like that she was right there, all up in his space, stinking of alcohol and about to kiss him.

"Whoa, whoa, Ruby…" he said, stopping her, hands on her shoulders and pushing her away. "I think you need to lie down." That was the best excuse he could think of right now. Double whammy with 'I need some fresh air' made her back off, and left Sam to escape outdoors.

He pushed through the crowd of people, unheeding of their glares after him as he pushed them out of his way. He practically ran.

Outside was much cooler, when Sam finally made it there. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and still more fell from the sky lazily. He took a deep breath – the cold air, it turned out, was exactly what he needed to clear his head.

"Sam?"

He turned around abruptly, following the sound of the voice he knew only too well. "Are you alright?"

He probably didn't look alright.

"Fine," he said, face drawn into a scowl as he looked at Gabriel. Before he knew it, he was stalking towards Gabriel, the scowl still on his face. He bore down on him like a bloodhound, and soon the smaller boy was pushed up against the wall, with Sam towering above him.

He was going to say something profound here, say something to Gabriel about how he felt. But when he tried to speak, nothing came out. Maybe it was because he didn't _know _how he felt. Or maybe it was because Gabriel looked so pathetic and scared, standing there in Sam's shadow. Either way, he stood there for God knows how long, looking like an idiot and saying nothing.

"Sam…"

"Just-" he interrupted, holding a hand up to stop Gabriel. He sighed. "I'll see you Monday."

Sam didn't look him in the eye as he spoke, but it was irrelevant, because he turned and began to walk away from the party without another word.

"Sam!" Gabriel's voice cut through the winter air. "Dude, we took my car!"

"I'm walking," he called back without a thought, and without turning around.

* * *

Gabriel was fully expecting _not _to see Sam on Monday.

The way he'd acted at the party convinced him that the kid would avoid him like the plague when they got back to school. So Gabriel was pleasantly surprised to see Sam walking towards him that morning with a huge grin on his face.

"Morning," Sam said jovially, handing Gabriel one of the take-out cups he held.

Gabriel sniffed it suspiciously, glancing at Sam with one eyebrow raised. "Vanilla latte?"

"Your favorite," he replied with a smile. He seemed far too cheery, even for a regular Monday morning.

"Thanks," he said, taking a huge sip. Sam was right, it was his favorite. Perfect temperature, too. But Sam was doing this to distract him, he must have been.

"Hey, kiddo," he addressed Sam, thinking twice about reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you…remember what happened on Saturday night?"

Sam looked straight into his eyes, and scoffed. "'Course I do."

_Then why the hell are you so calm?_

"Come on, Gabe. I wasn't _that _drunk."

Gabriel believed him – he would have called him on it if it hadn't been for that lingering, meaningful look he'd given him, held just long enough to let Gabriel know he wasn't telling him everything.

"Oh, shoot," Sam said, checking his watch. "Time to go. But hey," he began to walk away backwards, "I'm tutoring you tonight, right?"

"Um…yeah, I guess." Gabriel just watched as Sam walked away, baffled. He was acting totally _normal_, which made this whole situation not normal. Not if his reaction the other night was anything to go by.

* * *

They walked home together, and Sam was normal, and it wasn't awkward. They talked about the new CD Gabriel had bought, and it wasn't awkward. When they got to Gabriel's house, and he dished out sodas like normal, it wasn't awkward.

But apparently Sam was waiting to unleash all the pent-up awkwardness until they were in a private place.

"You kissed me," he said bluntly, as soon as Gabriel's bedroom door was shut. There was silence then, and Gabriel froze.

Gabriel turned to face him, with an unreadable expression; maybe a little cocky, a little surprised. "You kissed me back." _Smartass_.

Sam's face settled into a scowl. "Why'd you do it?"

Gabriel simply smiled, and turned back around. He sat on the ground by his bed, legs crossed. "I don't know about you, hotshot, but that's what I tend to do during that particular game…"

"Be serious. Why?"

He looked Sam in the eye, a sort of challenge. "How does 'for shits and giggles' sound?"

Sam looked pissed now. "Could you once in your life be serious for _just _a few seconds?" He asked again: "Why?"

Gabriel sighed, and his expression fell. He _was _serious now, believe it or not, and his gaze was penetrating as he looked back up at Sam. "Because…I wanted to." He sounded genuine.

Sam was speechless, not having expected _that _answer. "You…what?"

"Don't start! You wanted to, too."

Sam blinked rapidly a few times. "I did? Since when?"

Gabriel took a deep breath, and explained to Sam like he was talking to a petulant toddler. "Nobody kisses like that and doesn't want to."

_Bullshit. _"Yeah, well…"

"Look," Gabe said, completely serious now. "We know what happened. Stop living in the past. I want to know what we're going to _do _about it now."

"_Do _about it?" Sam huffed and rolled his shoulders, looking for something witty to say, or at least something that would deter this conversation, which he suddenly found himself not wanting to be in. "What do you want to do?" Not an escape, per se, but a diversion.

"The ball, so to speak, is in your metaphorical court. It's up to you, Sam."

"Well…I don't know." He looked down at his toes. He didn't want to lose Gabe as a friend; in fact, that was the last thing he'd ever want to do.

"…Do you want to do it again?"

That question made Sam start. It took him by surprise, and his eyes shot up to meet Gabriel's. He was, it turned out, not joking, not even a little bit. His hazel eyes looked completely serious, and maybe even a little bit scared. Sam's heart gave a nervous thump.

Sam hesitated. "Umm…"

Honest to God, if asked himself? _Really _thought about it? Sam did want to do it again. Maybe it was that morbid curiosity again, but he wanted to at least try it sober, make a real decision and not let alcohol decide for him.

Maybe he'd regret it, but at least he'd regret it with a clear conscience, and wouldn't be always wondering.

Apparently he'd let some sort of answer out because Gabriel stood, and walked towards him, silently and reverently.

"Sam?" he asked quietly, as though testing the waters. "You wanna?"

Gabriel was close now, heat pouring off him like he was a freaking furnace. Sam suddenly felt Gabriel's fingers brush over his cheek, warm and tentative – pretty much everything in this stupid non-relationship had been tentative. Little baby steps, nothing more.

He felt himself nodding as he subconsciously relaxed into Gabriel's touch.

"One more time," he heard himself say, though his voice was a gruff whisper. "So I can make a real decision."

Gabe's fingers were calming, ridiculously so. A thumb stroked across his cheekbone, softly, before the fingers curled behind Sam's neck. They laced into the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him gently closer to Gabriel. Sam's eyes slid shut.

Their lips were practically touching when Gabriel offered him a choice: "You sure?" was all he said. Sam smelled that familiar liquorice again, but now he also smelled vaguely of the latte he'd gotten him this morning. As an answer, Sam just nodded, and he suddenly felt Gabriel's lips on his once again.

If he thought kissing Gabriel while tipsy was good, kissing Gabriel while sober was downright _fantastic_. Just the tiniest touch of his lips got his heart pumping like he was sprinting. The hand on his neck tightened and pulled him closer as Sam surprised even himself by admitting the tongue that begged for entrance to his mouth.

He had to admit it – he was addicted. Kissing Gabriel was the very best kind of drug, and Sam heard himself moan as their tongues met, hot and wet and tasting like liquorice lattes…

All too soon, it was over, and Gabriel pulled away. Sam was breathless – they both were – and when their eyes met, Gabriel's full of fascination and awe, Sam swore he could melt.

"Well?" Gabriel asked, breath passing over Sam's tingling lips.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The only thing he could coherently say, apparently, was "Huh."

Gabriel smiled, standing on tiptoes so he could gently brush his nose against Sam's. "That a good 'huh'?" The question was barely a breath against Sam's lips, and he couldn't resist another taste. It was hardly a touch, but it was enough.

"So, that's a good 'huh'."

"Yep."


	8. And On the Eighth Day, God Made Pizza

**Please note rating change to M. :)**

**

* * *

**

"So, that's a good 'huh'."

"Yep."

"I'm so glad," he said, before giving a contented hum that buzzed against Sam's lips.

Sam couldn't help himself – he needed more of that sweet drug he called Gabriel's kisses, the ones that tasted like candy and coffee and _Gabriel_. He was caught now, hook, line and sinker; whatever Gabriel had done, it had worked.

He leaned down, hesitating for a moment before capturing Gabriel's lips again. He savored that familiar roll of heat through his body that came when they kissed; it was sort of… a tingly, warm feeling, but at the same time gave Sam chills up his spine and made him lightheaded like he was floating.

Almost like he was drunk all over again.

It was Sam's turn, this time, to brush his tongue against Gabriel's lips, and he welcomed it eagerly. There it was again, that friction of tongue against tongue, too much yet not enough.

Sam quickly learned at Gabriel was very handsy. He started out simply, with just the hand on Sam's neck, and then one resting gently on his hip. But as the kiss got deeper and more intense, they were _everywhere_: stroking up and down his arms; carding through his hair; coming to rest at the small of his back, drawing little circles with his thumbs, which made Sam buck forward a little, closer to Gabriel, and gave him even more chills.

When one of his hands stroked up his chest and smoothly undid the top button of his shirt, Sam gasped into Gabriel's mouth. Whoa – not baby steps any more. Big, gigantic baby leaps.

"Sorry," Gabriel muttered, leaning back a little. "That not okay?" His fingers still fiddled with the undone button.

"No, I was just, uh…" he smiled, giving Gabriel a tiny kiss to the lips. "…surprised. That's all."

"Good," he said, letting out a puff of air he didn't know he'd been holding. With a smirk, he trailed his fingers lower, popping more buttons as he went. Sam drew in shuddering breaths with each button.

In an attempt to calm him, Gabriel leaned up, bringing Sam's lips closer, and dragged his tongue across his bottom lip before kissing him again. Sam moaned into this kiss when Gabriel finally undid all the buttons and pulled his shirt over his shoulders.

Now Gabriel's overactive hands had more flesh to explore, skimming over Sam's exposed chest, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Sam was quick to follow the trend, slipping fingers underneath the hem of Gabriel's gray t-shirt and lifting it over his head.

His skin was even warmer when there was no fabric separating them, and Sam needed him as close as possible. He slid hands around Gabriel's waist, and pulled him in snugly so that his heat was all around him like an electric blanket. Gabriel got the message, smiled, and brought his hands to rest at the small of Sam's back again – he'd have to keep in mind that Sam was sensitive there.

Rubbing his thumbs in circles again, Gabriel heard Sam hiss as he minutely bucked towards him, and in a moment of boldness, slipped four fingers from each hand past the waistband of Sam's jeans. Sam stiffened.

Gabriel's touch was electric and warm and the anticipation of it all made heat pool low in Sam's belly. His heart was beating out of control and he could tell Gabe's was too, from the way his face was flushed and his breathing was shallow. It was now that he realized there was a bulge forming in _his _jeans too, and he swallowed.

"Sam," his voice broke the silence. "Bed?"

He hesitated. There was just one thing holding him back. "Parents?"

Gabriel scoffed. "Out 'til late."

"Anna?"

"Sleepover."

"Bed it is, then."

They practically tripped over each other trying to get to the bed whilst still connected at the mouth, but they did manage it, and when the backs of Gabriel's knees collided with the edge of the bed, they both toppled onto it in a tangle of legs, arms and tongues.

"Hey," Gabriel said softly, "way to pick on the little guy." He laughed, noting that the position they'd fallen into left Gabriel on the bottom.

"Hey," he responded playfully, nuzzling at Gabriel's jaw to get him to lift it up and expose his neck. "Little guy likes it."

"Bullsh-ahh!" was his stifled exclamation as Sam began to place open-mouthed kisses on his neck, flicking his tongue out every so often. He must have done something right because it didn't take long for Sam to feel Gabriel's chest stutter with breaths beneath him.

"See –"

"Sam!"

"- Told ya you'd like it on the bottom…"

There was a pause. "You're funny," he whispered huskily.

Before he knew it, Sam was being flipped so he was on his back on the bed. He must have been out of it for Gabriel to get one up on _him_. Sam was just thinking how he wasn't going to get away with it, but then Gabriel pressed their bodies together, creating delicious friction on their denim-covered cocks. Sam moaned into a tender kiss.

"Bottom's not so bad," Gabriel said with one of his trademark smirks, trailing a hand down the centre of Sam's bare chest. Sam shivered and closed his eyes when Gabriel's fingers reached the bulge of his erection and dragged his fingertips over the denim.

Sam bucked up into his hand, while Gabriel leant down to whisper in his ear: "This what you want, Sam?"

All he could do was whimper, and nod.

There was an almost-silence in the room then, and the sound of heavy breathing seemed all the louder. Suddenly permeating the close silence was the slow hiss of a zipper being undone and the gentle 'clink' of a brass button hitting itself after a release of pressure.

Sam gasped, leaning into the caress of Gabriel's hand on his neck. With his hands fisted in the bedsheets, his hips bucked up in an aborted stutter when he felt Gabriel's hand on his cock.

He might have let out a strangled moan when Gabriel's hand began to move along his shaft, but he couldn't be entirely sure because his head was spinning out of control and was about a million miles away right now. If that first kiss had equated to just seven minutes in Heaven, this was just about equal to a lifetime there.

Gabriel squeezed Sam's cock gently, pulling another reaction from him. He moved so his mouth was just above Sam's, their warm breaths mixing in the air.

"Sam…" he said, before another kiss turned his words into a muffled groan. When he pulled away he was gasping. "Sammy… touch me."

It was barely a whispered request, but Sam jumped into the task as soon as he heard it. His hands went straight to Gabriel's shoulders, quickly making their way over his chest and to his sides, before hooking into the waistband of his jeans.

"Do it," was the hushed command, and Sam eagerly obeyed. Trembling fingers popped open Gabriel's button after a few attempts, and slid down the zipper. With a certain reverence, he reached beyond the confines of Gabriel's boxers and took him in his hand.

Gabriel's eyes slid closed when Sam began to stroke, still tentative, still nervous. He must have looked terrified, because he definitely felt that way. This was completely alien to him, and his heart and head were having silent freakouts behind the scenes. Spurred on by whispered 'yes's and 'good's in his ear, Sam pulled faster, and the arm that held Gabriel up was shaking and threatening to make him tumble.

Gabriel matched his speed, stroking Sam's cock with arrhythmic movements. He was clearly having trouble holding himself up, and when he collapsed onto his elbow, Sam tried not to be smug. It was a bonus, because it gave Gabriel the perfect angle to place loving kisses all over his face and neck.

It wasn't too long before Sam felt that familiar heat pool in his groin and tug at his balls. He bucked into Gabriel's hand a few more times and then he was coming, harder than he ever had before, covering Gabriel's hand and his own stomach.

Watching Sam come undone gave Gabriel the kick he needed, apparently, because he grasped the hand that Sam had on his cock, goading it into stroking faster. The room was silent aside from breathless moans, and when their eyes locked for a wonderful half of a second, Gabriel's hazel eyes were alight with desire. Soon he was coming too, and Sam milked him through his orgasm, before he collapsed onto Sam in a breathless heap.

They stayed there for God knows how long, draped over one another, as their breathing subsided. Gabriel was so _warm_ that Sam just wanted to snuggle into him, and he would have, if he had had the energy to move. That was the most intense orgasm Sam had ever had, more so than that time he'd 'borrowed' one of Dean's skin mags when he was fourteen, and more so than when Lucy Miller had groped him in the janitor's closet last September.

"That was…" gasped Gabriel, once he had regained the power of speech. "Sam, that was amazing." He turned on his side, taking Sam's face in both of his hands, kissing him first on the forehead, then gently on the lips. Sam searched for more, but Gabriel pulled away, laughing. He combed a hand through Sam's hair. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

Sam leaned closer, brushing his nose against Gabriel's. "How long?" he asked with a smile.

Gabriel deliberated, bottom lip jutting out in thought. "About…since the moment I met you." He chuckled softly, drawing Sam in for another quick peck.

Sam smiled, curling an arm around Gabriel's shoulders and pulling him closer. "So, you mean to say, this whole tutoring thing…me coming round to your house…that was all just a ploy to get me into bed?" Sam nuzzled into Gabriel once again, grinning.

"Didn't start out as one…I did legitimately need a tutor," Gabriel said, gazing intently into Sam's eyes with a smile. "Chose you because you had dimples." He stroked a hand over Sam's cheek and chuckled.

Sam hugged him with the arm around his shoulders, pulling him in to hold him tightly. He buried his face into Gabriel's shoulder, mumbling: "I'm glad you chose me."

* * *

Sam came home late that night. He tried to be quiet coming back into the motel room, hoping against hope that Dean might not have noticed he was gone, or was already asleep.

To his relief, however, though Dean was neither asleep nor oblivious, he didn't seem to mind Sam was so late coming back. He was sitting up in his bed, channel surfing, lingering on some hospital drama that Sam neither knew about nor cared about.

"Have fun being a tutor, Sammy?" he asked, as Sam sheepishly snuck in through the door. "Did you…conjugate your…trigonometry, or whatever?"

Sam felt a little guilty at that. They hadn't done _any _work while he was there, even though Gabriel had a test tomorrow. Sam had made him promise to study, but he had the feeling that Gabriel would much rather hit the pint of Häagen-Dazs in the freezer than hit the books.

"Um…yeah, we had fun." Sam dumped his bag and headed towards the shower.

"Yeah, I bet you did –"

Sam whirled around, interrupting Dean. "Can you _please_ cut it with the gay jokes? It's getting old," he snapped, storming off into the bathroom.

"Sam?" he called through the too-thin walls after a minute.

"What?"

Dean cleared his throat, and it was obvious that he was about to share some feelings and he was _very _uncomfortable about it. Sam popped his head around the door.

"I was just…uh…Sam, you know that I'm okay with whoever you end up with, right?"

Sam looked around suspiciously, seriously thinking about muttering 'christo'. But the way Dean looked away awkwardly and kept clearing his throat convinced Sam that it really was Dean speaking.

"Uh…yeah, Dean. Thanks."

"No problem, Sammy."

"Stop calling me Sammy…"

"…No deal."


	9. The Nine Commandments

The next morning at school wasn't awkward, not even a little bit. Gabriel bounded up to him at his locker, eyes bright and head cocked like an extremely excited puppy.

"Morning, Sam. Sleep well?"

With a smile, Sam replied, in a hushed voice: "Like a baby. I was worn out."

"Me too," Gabriel said, slinking closer to Sam and brushing his fingertips over the back of his hand. He flinched away, and Gabriel scowled. "S'matter, Sammy?"

Sam looked away, muttering. Believe it or not, he wasn't quite ready to make his relationship with Gabe public. It was bad enough he was the new kid, but to come out in front of the whole school? Not something he planned on doing any time soon. Maybe not ever – he was going to be out of here in three weeks, tops.

"…Dude, it's not like I'm sticking my tongue down your throat or anything. But okay, I'll note you're not a PDA fan."

Sam turned to him, face repentant. "No, Gabe, it's not that. It's just…" he leaned closer. "I'm not comfortable with letting everyone know we're together just yet."

Gabriel all but glared at him. "What? You're ashamed of us?"

"No…it's not that, it's just…" Sam grasped him on the shoulders and looked him in the eye, trying to talk reason into him. "Look, I didn't think you'd want to either, I mean, after I had to protect you from those guys…"

Gabriel swatted away his hands. "Who said I needed your protection -!"

"Always use protection!"

The school counselor tapped them on the shoulders, turning them around to face the front doors. This morning was a field trip – to the Nanticoke Cheesecake Factory, of all places – and Mr. Collins was chaperoning.

Mr. Collins was - well, there was really only one word to describe him – kooky. He was great at making you feel better if you didn't know what to do with your future or if your guinea pig died, and he did have a gift for words…but every so often he came out with something completely random like, 'at least you're not sauerkraut.' Sometimes it was hard to tell if he was kidding or not.

"Come on guys, bus isn't gonna wait forever."

They were all herded on like sheep, and somewhere in the small crowd he and Gabriel had gotten separated. They'd promised to sit next to each other, because Gabriel got travel sick and needed to sit at the front, but Sam got shuffled to the back before he even saw him, never mind knew if they were even on the same bus.

"Sam!" came a call from somewhere near the back of the bus. He looked up, but the voice was of someone he didn't really want to be talking to. "Sam, come sit with me!"

Ruby was sitting on a seat near the back, patting the space next to her and grinning like Saturday night hadn't happened. Based on the amount of alcohol she'd consumed, Sam wouldn't put it past her to have forgotten all of it.

"Hiya," he responded, cheerfully enough. He gave a weak smile and reluctantly went to sit next to her, next to the window.

"So, did you have fun on Saturday…"

At that, Sam's phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling a text. "Hold on a sec, Ruby, gotta answer this," he said, grateful for an excuse to stop talking to her. The text was from Gabriel; Sam gave a slight frown as he opened it.

"_Hey Sam. Soz about earlier…didnt mean it. Forgive me? x"_

He had to give a little smile at that. Gabriel really hated confrontation. He sent a quick reply, so as not to get on Ruby's bad side – Sam assumed that Ruby's bad side was not something you wanted to be on.

"_Course. Xx"_

He smiled and slipped the phone back into his bag. "Um…Saturday! Yeah, that was totally fun."

She laughed, a sour sound, and Sam was suddenly horrifically reminded of a female praying mantis – the ones that eat the male's heads. Just then, he got another text from Gabriel.

_"Wish I could kiss you right now. Xxx"_

_That_ made Sam stop in his tracks. He angled the screen so Ruby wouldn't be able to see it and re-read the text. _Damn._ Eyes wide, he pocketed the phone without replying.

It wasn't long before he got another text.

"_Wish I could get on my knees and give that bitch something to laugh about. Xxx"_

Sam almost spit out the water he'd been drinking. He turned the phone away, towards the window, so that Ruby wouldn't be able to look over his shoulder. He hastily replied.

"_Dude! She's right here! Xxx"_

"_So? Lets make her jealous xxx"_

"_How? Xxx"_

At the factory, Sam let Gabriel hold his hand the whole time. At the restaurant at the end, they shared a cheesecake.

It took Gabriel a few tries to successfully unlock his front door, what with Sam's lips on his, his hands in his hair and his leg gently trying to separate his. It made walking hard too.

Ruby had thrown a silent bitchfit at the factory when she saw Sam and Gabriel holding hands, even more so when she'd caught them sharing that perfectly-timed kiss just before they'd gotten on the buses. The whole school probably knew by now; not that Sam minded. In fact, he wanted to repay Gabriel in his own way.

"Gabe?"

"Mmph?" His reply was smothered by another kiss.

"You're sexy."

They practically stumbled into the house when Gabriel turned the door handle. Laughing, but still joined at the mouth, they made their way through the front room, dropping their schoolbags as they went.

"Gabriel? Honey, is that you?"

The call from the kitchen made Sam stop in his tracks; it didn't take long after that for Gabriel's mom to come in through the archway, because Karma's a bitch.

She seemed distinctly unflustered, however, that Sam had his hands all over her son, and that her son's lips were red from kisses.

"Hey, mom. Good day at work?"

And Sam couldn't believe they were having this conversation here, _now_.

"It was alright. I bought you some more poptarts."

"Awesome."

Sam just grinned sheepishly when Mrs. Milton addressed him. "Afternoon, Sam. Are you staying for supper?"

Mrs. Milton was lovely, really. She worked as a manager for a local Bed and Breakfast, and whenever she cooked it was delicious. And though it was a rather awkward position to be caught in, this one they were in right now, neither Gabriel nor his mother seemed particularly bothered by it.

"That'd be great, thanks." And Sam was still standing there, his arms around Gabriel and he was stuck in quite possibly the most embarrassing situation he'd been in in a while.

They eventually made it upstairs, once Gabriel and his mother had _finally _finished their conversation. Sam counted himself lucky that they'd escaped before his father or sister came home too, or before the cousins all showed up and they had a whole freaking family reunion right there in the hallway while Gabriel refused to let go of his grip on him.

Not that Sam was really thinking about that anymore, because as soon as they made it upstairs, Gabriel pounced on him again, licking into his mouth with a glint in his eye and a hand in his hair.

"Gabe." Sam stopped him, pulling away slightly. Somehow they'd made it to the bed, and now Sam was pinned under Gabriel, who was apparently simply gagging for it. He didn't stop, but instead moved to place kisses and nips along Sam's jawline, and a small 'Hmm?' told him he was listening. "So…your parents are okay with you being bi?"

He did stop then, leaning back a little and looking Sam in the eye. He quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. "Course. Why wouldn't they be?"

Sam gave a small chuckle, which turned into something garbled when Gabriel captured his mouth in another kiss, soft and chaste. "Well, for one," he began again, once Gabriel had stopped kissing him, and instead rubbed a hand up and down his side. "Your Dad's a priest."

Gabriel shrugged again. "So?"

"Well…" Sam was silenced by another kiss, and this one started out tender, but when tongues got involved it was mind-blowing. It must have been all those lollipops he ate, or maybe it was all the talking he did, but either way the guy knew how to do some crazy shit with his tongue…crazy shit that had Sam moaning soon enough.

He pulled away again, and both boys were breathless. Gabriel mumbled his answer into Sam's neck. "You don't think…he doesn't care who I love, as long as it's love?"

Sam just had to laugh at that. Gabriel scowled. "Sorry…cheesy much?"

"I'm serious." He moved to press his forehead against Sam's. "My Dad has this philosophy, it's: 'Love's love, no matter the gender'."

"Wise."

"Yeah." He shifted, and brought his hand up to Sam's face to caress it, and brush his bangs out of the way. "I mean, it's the basic pillars of Christianity, isn't it? 'Love God and love your neighbor as yourself'," he quoted. He pulled Sam up for another kiss, this one deep and languid. "And I _love _my neighbor," he muttered darkly, his words buzzing against Sam's lips.

Sam laughed, but that turned to a soft moan as Gabriel's hand passed lightly over the bulge in his jeans. "That mean you love yourself like _that_, too?" he asked somewhat breathlessly, with a smile.

Gabriel leaned closer, until there were mere millimeters between their lips. His answer was quiet enough that Sam himself even had trouble hearing it. "Oh yeah, all the time." After a tiny kiss, he added: "_For you._"

Sam's eyes flickered with desire, and he tried to flip the two of them so he could get Gabriel on the bottom. Apparently, though, Gabriel saw this coming, and his attempt was thwarted, and they ended up side by side in a tangle of limbs, laughing.

Sam ended up close enough to rub his nose gently against Gabriel's. "You know, I'll never get over kissing you."

Gabriel nuzzled closer, his hand trailing over Sam's neck and shoulder. "Me neither."

Just then, they heard a click of the door handle as someone came into the room unannounced. Apparently, Gabriel's family, nice as they were, had no semblance of privacy, because Anna was standing in the middle of the room, hands on her hips.

"Gabriel, where's my calculator?" she asked irately. And, once she realized what the two of them had been doing, she added: "Ew... gross, guys. Get a room."

Gabriel huffed and sat up. "You act as though I, in my right mind, would be so inclined to _steal _a _calculator_. And in case you haven't noticed, we _do _have a room. You're in it. Now _shoo_." He waved her out of the door.

"Mom!" Anna called, "Gabe stole my calculator and now he won't give it back!"

"Did not!" Gabriel stood and stomped towards the door Anna had just stormed out of. He turned at the last minute, looking back at Sam with a sort of remorse, and then deciding to run back.

He bent over Sam, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, and pulled him up for a tender kiss, chaste but lingering. He left Sam sitting there dumbly, his heart about to beat right out of his chest.


	10. T Minus Ten Minutes

Gabriel's test came back – it was an A minus, proving that Sam's mere presence at Gabriel's house seemed to accomplish _something _even if they didn't get much actual studying done when he was there.

He promised Sam that parents/sisters/cousins/aunts/uncles/household pets wouldn't come barging in this time – 'Cool your jets, Sammy. It's not like I hadn't already told them' – and Gabe had insisted they celebrate.

'Celebrating' in Gabriel-speak apparently meant buying a whole bag of Hershey's kisses and eating them on the way home from school. It had been warm that morning, so Gabe had walked, but by the afternoon it was pretty damn cold – at least he had Sam to drape an arm over his shoulder and surround him with his warmth.

So they walked back to Gabriel's place, Sam's arm easily encompassing Gabriel's shoulders, and Gabriel's hand nestled perfectly into the crook of Sam's hip. Gabriel fed him kisses every so often (both the chocolate and the literal kind) and they talked and laughed about everything and nothing, their breath rising up into the air in little dragon-clouds.

Now, Sam knew it as a rule of thumb that you were _never _supposed to use food during sex…Dean had told him this when he'd come home one night when Sam was fourteen feeling 'sticky' – his words. It just never turned out as awesomely kinky as you'd planned.

Sam, however, was inclined to disagree. Anything that Gabriel _licked _off his chest couldn't possibly be bad, especially if it was made of Hershey's and caused Gabriel to create these little moans of contentment as he snatched up each kiss before it melted.

Gabriel's tongue was nothing short of magical, and soon Sam was writhing beneath him on the bed, melting into Gabriel's warm hands and even warmer tongue. He vainly tried to control his breathing, but when he looked up at him with those twinkling hazel eyes and that trademark smirk, Sam nearly came right then and there.

Or died, because having your heart stop for that long couldn't be very healthy.

He snaked up Sam's body to pepper his face with kisses, stopping simply to stare right into his eyes, smiling.

"What?" Sam asked, chuckling, when Gabriel didn't move.

"Nothing," he muttered, bearing down on Sam's lips with a fierce kiss. His smile when he pulled back up was a little evil-looking, and he had that glint in his eye that told Sam he was up to something. "Wanna taste you," he said finally, barely giving Sam a second to register it before slinking down his body again and stopping at his fly. Sam looked down, because he did not want to miss this sight – Gabriel looking up at him as he unzipped his fly…_with his teeth_.

Sam shivered, his arms nearly collapsing underneath him as he leaned up on his elbows. His heart thudding in his ears, Sam felt as though he'd been yanked up to space and had no kind of air supply. Rational thought skipped right out the window.

Here, at last, was something he'd been waiting for, had only dreamed of; and it was _Gabriel_ smirking up at him, no less. Sam had resigned himself to never experiencing this…Dean had treated a 'blowjob' like it was the Holy Grail of sexual experiences and Sam had happily accepted that.

He ran a hand through Gabriel's hair as he fumbled with the button, trying to hide the shaking in his excited fingers. When he finally unfastened it, Sam lifted his hips to allow Gabriel to slide his jeans and boxers down to bunch up low on his thighs.

Sam's eyes slid shut as his cock sprang free, for almost immediately, Gabriel had a hand around the base, and was licking a languid stripe up the vein on the underside. Sam gasped, his entire air supply leaving his body in a rush and his hand tightened in Gabriel's hair when he took the head into his mouth, swirling around it with his tongue.

Sam tried to buck up, but Gabriel had a strong palm on his hip that prevented him from doing so, so instead he let out a broken, wanton moan. Gabriel took him deeper into his mouth, a glorious wet heat surrounding Sam and feeling like nothing else. In fact, it was quite an otherworldly, indescribable feeling, because Gabriel's tongue was quite possibly the most epically amazing thing in the whole universe, in Sam's opinion.

He was just thinking how he didn't want this to end, _ever_, when Gabriel started _humming _around his cock. And that? That sent him hurtling over the edge, faster than he'd planned, shooting right into Gabriel's mouth. The vision behind Sam's eyes whited out for a second, and for a second he was as high as he'd been in like, ever.

Gabriel must have been a fucking pro because he swallowed every drop of Sam's come with a smile, still lapping at Sam's cock until it became too sensitive. Sam, for his part, was apparently stuck to the bed, because he couldn't move even if he wanted to.

Just like that, Gabriel was next to him, grinning like a lunatic, asking: "Was that alright?"

And hell yeah, it was more than alright, if Sam's heart – which was beating up a storm somewhere near his epiglottis – and his sweaty palms had anything to say about it.

The only sensible thing that Sam's voice could produce, however, was a half formed 'Wuh'. As an answer, instead, he turned to the side, snaking his hand to the back of Gabriel's neck and pulling him close enough to kiss.

Sam could taste himself on Gabriel's tongue, heady and salty, which was nothing short of _scorching hot_ and his dick gave an interested twitch. Gabe moaned into the kiss, shifting closer to Sam, where he could feel the insistent press of his erection into his leg.

It was time Sam repaid the favor.

Pulling away with a smile, Sam grasped a hold of Gabriel's hand and pulled him up to a sitting position with his legs over the edge of the bed, working at his belt and fly with determined fingers. Gabriel's breath hitched in his chest as Sam helped him wriggle out of his jeans and boxers, too, and his hand rested gently on the back of Sam's neck, massaging lightly in a motion meant to comfort and calm.

Was it that obvious that Sam had never done this before?

Sam swallowed once, nerves overtaking him. It was only for a second though, because he placed his tongue on Gabriel's cock, swirling around the head and his mind was taken over trying to imitate Gabriel's actions. He licked along the slit, knowing he liked to touch himself there, and Gabriel shuddered, curling over Sam and gasping more tightly onto his neck.

At the encouragement of a gasped plea from Gabriel, Sam took him into his mouth as far as he could. It was an odd feeling; his jaw clenched up, he over-produced saliva, and the feel of Gabriel on his tongue was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

He only had to bob his head a few times – apparently Gabriel was pretty close, if the way he was moaning gave any indication – all the while inexpertly avoiding accidentally scraping teeth, before Gabriel was coming too. Sam attempted to swallow like Gabriel did, but when he started gagging and choking he found he couldn't get all of it, and a dribble of come made its way down his chin as he pulled away from Gabriel.

Gabe just chuckled at him like he was a misbehaving puppy, swiping a thumb across his chin and picking up the come, before sucking it off his own thumb. Sam growled low in his throat because if Gabe didn't watch it he'd be hard again pretty soon.

Gabriel pulled Sam up, cupping his jaw and sharing with him a tender kiss, first just a gentle brush of lips, then turning deeper. When their tongues brushed together, he moaned, a sound muffled by Gabriel's sinful tongue as it licked lovingly into his mouth.

Sam's hands still rested on Gabriel's hips, and his fingers pressed more deeply into the soft flesh there, grasping as though he never wanted to let go. He started to push Gabriel back, and he obeyed, Sam following him onto the bed and resting a knee between his.

It was Gabriel who pulled away first, breathless, his breathing hot as it passed over Sam's lips. His face broke into a huge smile, and he brought his hand around to Sam's neck to rub soothing circles there.

"Sam," he began, barely a whisper, as Sam himself crashed on the bed next to him, truly sated.

"Yeah?"

Gabriel looked into Sam's eyes, in his an unreadable expression…half-wonder, half-fright. "Have you…have you ever been in love?"

Sam paused, melting. He smiled. "I think so," he said, grasping Gabriel's neck again to pull him a little closer, and brushing their lips together once more.

They said nothing more, and passed the next few moments in silence, just staring at each other. Gabriel's hazel eyes showed no joke, no trickery like they usually did. Here, Sam thought, was Gabriel laid bare - totally open and honest, not hiding behind laughter or a smirk. There was a certain look in his eyes that tipped Sam off; that look of wonder and genuine happiness.

Then Sam felt a stab of guilt. Gabriel had told him everything, his deepest secrets; he'd shared _everything _with him, and Sam…Sam hadn't even told Gabriel why his mother's dead or why his family runs around the country or even his real last _name_. He scowled, knowing how Gabriel would react to the lies, the concealed half-truths.

Sam swallowed, resigning himself to telling him everything, eventually. But not now…no, he couldn't. Not when Gabriel was looking at him like _that_, all awed and almost innocent. But he could start small.

"Gabe," he said quietly, squeezing his eyes shut as though that would protect him from what he was about to say. "I have something to tell you."

"Yeah?" he replied, cocking his head to the side. "What?"

"Well…" he began, grimacing. "I haven't…exactly…been telling you the truth."

"In what way?"

Sam took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever he deserved. "I lied about my name."

"What, so you're in witness protection or something?" Gabriel asked, laughing, and Sam laughed, too, in spite of himself.

"No, no, it's just," he floundered to come up with the excuse. "Our Dad doesn't like us using real names, he's paranoid like that."

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow and leaned up on one elbow. "So you're not Sam?"

"Oh… no." He smiled, following suit and sitting up on his elbow. "I'm still Sam."

"Then what's your real last name, oh man of mystery?" Gabriel laughed, stroking a hand gently along his neck and making Sam feel immediately better for telling him.

"Well…it's Winchester. Sam Winchester."

There was a beat, silence pressing and empty, and then Gabriel cried out and clutched his head, rolling and curling in on himself in agony.

* * *

_Blackness, and then lightning. A garden that felt like a twisted version of home. The sound of a neck breaking, then horrible, close silence._

_A face – Sam's face, that much Gabriel knew – but warped, not himself, a grotesque mask twisted by hate and bitterness. _

"_You ever hear the story of how I fell from Grace?"_

_Sam speaks with someone else's voice, talks to a man he's only seen once before, but he'd recognize him as Sam's brother any day. _

_Gabriel feels himself shouting 'No!' – he doesn't want to hear that story. _

_Not again._

_Dean's speaking, but Gabriel can't tear his eyes away from Sam, beautiful yet evil, that smile with a thousand meanings making his stomach churn. _

"_You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him. More than anything."_

_Gabriel wanted to reach out and touch, to embrace – it was _Sam_, after all. But he knows who this is, knows who Sam really is._

_Maybe he's lied about more than just his name._

_

* * *

_

"_What is that supposed to mean?" _

_The scene's changed. It's a barren field; a cemetery. Sam's there again, his eyes still narrowed in that way that makes you know he's quite literally the personification of evil. _

_The younger of the two – or was he older? He was smaller, slighter, the look in his eyes determined rather than evil, and he glares with hatred at the Morningstar. _

"_Think about it. Dad made everything, which means He made me who I am! God wanted the Devil."_

_And that's enough. Gabriel needs to get out of there, right now. He needs to run away just like he did before, for this – this right here's why he left in the first place. He needs to run away from Sam, who he thought he'd loved, because Sam isn't who he thought he was._

_Something holds him there, though, something he can't control. _

"_Please," he begs, "please let me out of here."_

_

* * *

_

When Gabriel woke there were tears blurring his vision, sobs shaking his chest and a figure above him, shaking his shoulders, shouting things Gabriel couldn't hear or discern.

_Sam._

Hands fisted in the comforter, Gabriel shuffled back, struck by fear, scrambling away from the reaching arms, away from Sam.

Because Sam wasn't Sam. He hadn't ever been Sam – he was Lucifer, alive and kicking.

"Get away from me!" was the first thing he said, reaching out to push him away. Sam frowned, looking so unlike the Sam from the vision, and yet…

"What?" he said, sliding back, affronted. "Gabe, I'm sorry, I…"

"No," Gabriel said, shaking, a tear sliding out of his eye as he tried to scramble back further. "Leave."

The harsh words and the extended hand pointing out the door hurt Sam more than any blade, but he obeyed anyway without knowing why, picking up his shirt and haphazardly yanking up his pants, before pausing at the door.

"I'm sorr-"

"Leave!"

Gabriel still shook, long after Sam had gone. The vision was a big one, his head still pounding like someone had gone at it with a sledgehammer, but he didn't have the heart to put this one on paper. Not this time.

He felt a sick feeling settle low in his stomach, and soon enough Gabriel was in the bathroom, retching.

* * *

Sam made it home, eventually, unheeding of the unshed, indignant tears that formed and froze at the corners of his eyes.

He really hoped Dean had gone out, because alone time was what he needed right now. He needed to bury himself in algebra and not think about what had happened, or about the accusing look in Gabriel's eyes, or about how stupid he'd been to even lie to Gabriel in the first place.

Of course, algebra didn't help a bit. He stared at the same problem for a good twenty minutes, trying to fend off tears and failing, one fat tear dripping onto his book, blurring numbers and letters.

He'd had something so _good_, but now he'd fucked it up from a tiny little white lie. As if he needed it, Sam had another reason to hate the whole hunting thing he'd been dragged into against his will.

So the algebra book ended up thrown against the far wall, and Sam ended up in bed, sobbing into his pillow.

* * *

A/N: I actually cried writing this chapter. So sorry guys. It gets better, I promise! *prepares self for death threats*


	11. Eleven Spanish Angels

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Kripke and his posse of evil.**  
**A/N: I couldn't keep them angsting for much longer. Enjoy!**

When Sam woke up, he was angry, more than anything. The tears had dried on his face, but there was still some creature in his chest that felt like it was eating him from the inside out.

He'd have to walk himself to school, because Dean had stayed out all night and _God _knows where he even was. But he was going to go to school, and damnit if it was the last thing he did he would get Gabriel to forgive him for whatever it was he'd done.

He had replayed the events over and over in his head, and reasoned that it couldn't possibly be his fault. Gabriel had been _fine_, it wasn't because he had lied…it was something to do with the vision and Sam was determined to find out what.

He rolled up at school with a vanilla latte in tow, figuring that a little sucking up wouldn't hurt.

"Hey," he said, tentatively approaching Gabriel, who slammed his locker shut and turned around when he heard him. There was terror in his eyes, mixed with hatred, something which almost made Sam well up again.

He turned to walk away but Sam followed him at a close distance. "Gabe! Tell me what I did wrong!" He stupidly held out the latte over Gabriel's shoulder; he took it, but just in time for him to pass a trash can and throw it in.

He talked over the noise of the crowd. "It's not what you did, Sammy, it's who you are!"

_Oh, crap_. "A hunter?" _Is that what he'd seen?_ "Gabe, we can talk about that…I'm sorry I lied –! "

Gabriel turned around, eyebrow cocked. "What? No, it's…I know what you are," he said, the look in his eyes nothing short of scathing.

"I know. And I know it probably freaks you out, but…"

"I'm more than freaked out, Sam! How would you feel talking to the Devil?"

If the other students heard him, they didn't make any indication that they had.

Sam stopped then. "Huh?" Ok, so no. Gabriel wasn't freaking out about the hunting thing, he was just _batshit crazy._

Gabriel scowled. "Don't play dumb. You're the living, breathing incarnation of Satan himself! I'm done."

He started to walk away again, but Sam grasped him on the shoulder, spinning him. "Gabe, what are you _talking _about? I'm…I'm not _Satan_."

Gabriel just stood there, arms folded over his chest, as though waiting for some kind of explanation. Well, at least he was waiting.

"Do you realize how…ridiculous you sound?" said Sam, letting out a bitter laugh. "I'm not…what makes you think that?"

Gabriel grimaced, biting his lip and looking down. "Well…"

"It was the vision, right?"

That thought had been plaguing Sam's mind since last night. The drawings – of which he'd stolen a fair few – carried along in this same vein: stuff about people with wings and lion faces, stuff about people with black eyes, stuff about Devil worship. Sam had connected the dots while he'd been over-thinking last night; the way Gabriel had clutched his head in agony, the way he was dead to the world and didn't hear Sam's shouts – he'd seen similar stuff in action before and it all added up.

He looked up at Sam. "How do you know about…?"

Vision it was then.

"I just do. Come on." The bell had rung, and the hallways began to empty, but Sam grasped Gabriel's hand and pulled him towards the doors.

"Where are you going?"

He smiled back at him. "We're cutting class."

* * *

Gabriel guessed that whatever they were going to do was quite important to Sam, seeing as he was willing to _cut class _for it. Even more so to goad Gabriel into it, when he was the one supposed to be bringing his grades _up_.

He brought them to a grassy hill outside a children's playground. It was blessedly empty, and they sat on the hill in silence for a few minutes, just staring out at it. The first signs of spring were beginning to show through, but the grass was still wet, so Sam had pulled off his raincoat for them both to sit on.

Sam spoke first. "So…this vision. Wanna tell me what you saw?"

Gabriel glared. "You don't have to treat me like a crazy person, Sam." He was about to add _I've had enough of that already, _but thought better of it.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. "Just…tell me, then." Gabriel's breath caught in his throat when Sam grasped the hand that had been resting on his knee and stroked the back of it with his thumb.

"Well," he cleared his throat. "It was…you. And you were…" he cleared his throat again, realizing now how ridiculous he sounded. "You were Satan."

Now that he really thought about it, the horror from last night faded. He looked at Sam and saw none of the same hatred in his eyes; none of the evil.

Sam tried not to laugh; tried to take this seriously. "Do I look like Satan to you?"

Gabriel glanced over at him, the smirk in his eyes once more – Sam had never been so happy to see it. "With that face?" He reached up a hand, rubbing a thumb over Sam's brow. "Never."

And so what if he was the Devil? _He's still cute_, Gabriel reasoned, _and he makes me feel happy and not like some creepy recluse. _

Sam forgot for a moment why they were here, or what he was supposed to be saying. "Uhh…ahem. Well, if you're worried about the vision you could talk to my Dad…he's good with that kind of thing. He could get you help…"

"Don't you think I've already had 'help'?" he interrupted, using air quotes.

"I didn't mean that kind of help. I mean like…" he waved his arms around again, but seeing that it didn't get the point across, rephrased. "He knows a lot of other psychics, from his job…"

"Hold up. You think I'm psychic?" he said, before furrowing his brow in suspicion. "And anyway, I thought you said your Dad was a traveling salesman."

Sam looked away, grimacing. "Yeah, that's the other thing I need to talk to you about."

* * *

"_Monsters_? You…hunt _monsters_?"

Sam just nodded, playing with a loose thread on his shirt. "Yeah –"

"Like vampires? And…"

"Spirits…and stuff." He waved his hand around in a motion meant to symbolize everything that 'stuff' represented.

"Wow." Gabriel looked away for a second, passing a hand over his face. "Geez, and I thought I was the crazy one."

To be honest, that was exactly the reaction Sam had been expecting. He laughed a little. "I'm not crazy. Look," he said, rolling up the sleeve of his hoodie to a little over his elbow.

He pointed out a long white scar on the outer edge of his arm, just above the elbow. He nodded, maybe a little proudly. "Werewolf."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Summer I was thirteen." Gabriel stroked a finger along it reverently.

"Not sure I believe you," he began, still gazing at the scar. "But ok, I'll go along with that." He grinned up at Sam. "You really are a man of mystery," he said with a smile.

Sam grasped Gabriel's hand again, twining their fingers together. Gabriel squeezed, before rubbing his thumb across their hands. "Why you?" Gabriel asked quietly, after a moment of silence. "I mean, why is it you who hunts these…things…and not someone else?"

Sam sighed, picking at a blade of grass with his free hand. "Believe me, I ask myself that same question every day."

Gabriel just looked at him, not expecting anything, not asking for anything. It was entirely up to Sam if he wanted to divulge more, and he chose honesty over silence.

"You know how I told you how my mom died?"

Gabriel nodded. "You told me it was a house fire. I guess that's not true."

"Almost not true," Sam corrected.

"Right."

He drew in a deep breath, relaxing a little when Gabriel rested head on his shoulder.

"You don't have to tell me, Sam," he said, after a few moments of silence. He turned, nuzzling into his shoulder. "I appreciate your honesty," he muttered, a hint of a smile in his voice.

With that, Gabriel tiled his head up and kissed him, amazingly soft and tender – barely a brush of lips. It was like their first kiss all over again; Sam hummed into it, having been worried that he would never feel it again.

He opened eagerly, letting Gabriel sweep his tongue inside, and leaning over him so he was pushed towards the ground. He ran a hand up his thigh, and Gabriel grasped his neck with both hands.

He let go of Gabriel's mouth for a moment, for favor of little nips along his jawline and kisses on his neck. With every one, Gabriel let out a little hum of contentment. Soon, though, he stopped Sam, a hand in his hair to pull him away, when he sneakily undid the top button on his shirt.

"We'll get done for public indecency," he muttered, carding his hand through Sam's hair. "Or someone will catch us skipping school."

"Oh, no, didn't you hear?" Sam said, smiling and giving him another kiss. "The principal gave us the day off, so I could make out with my…gorgeous…Gabe," he said, brushing his nose against Gabriel's with every word.

He laughed, but it was smothered by another kiss. "You think I'm gorgeous?"

"The gorgeousest."

Gabriel chuckled, running a hand along the back of Sam's neck, dipping beneath his shirt collar for a brief second. Sam grinned down at him, bangs having fallen down in front of his eyes. They just stared at each other for a long moment, before Gabriel spoke.

"You're kinda like Superman," he mused, that look in his eyes that he got whenever he was going off on a tangent. "You know, like a hero in disguise."

Sam burst out laughing, falling to press his forehead onto the ground next to Gabriel's head. "What?" Gabriel asked, unable to stop himself laughing along with him.

"I suppose…you could look at it that way." He bit his lip to stop more laughter coming out, though his chest still shook with it.

"What, so if I…ripped your shirt off, I'd find the superhero outfit underneath?" Gabriel asked, trailing a hand down the centre of Sam's chest and smirking. Sam leaned down and kissed him, slow and messy, unabashedly thrusting his tongue into Gabriel's mouth. Sam groaned when he felt Gabriel's teeth pull at his bottom lip.

When he pulled away, Sam muttered into his lips, eyes burning: "Want to find out?"

With a Cheshire cat grin, Gabriel redid the top button of his shirt. "Like I said Sam…public indecency." He stroked Sam's hair away from his face and behind his ear. "But we can go back to my house," he tempted, turning his head to the side.

"…Parents?"

"At work."

"Anna?"

"At school."

There was a pause, and Sam smiled.

"…Let's go."


	12. Twelve Plumbers Plumbing

**A/N: First of all, sorry for the long wait. Writing smut while at my grandparents' house feels a little wrong. But hey, I hope this chapter's worth it. Also, the updates might turn to once a week from now on (or less) because I have school stuff to worry about and shizz. Secondly, tinypinkmouse has made a podfic of this story! It's on her journal on LJ. As of yet, it's only the first few parts, but still, epic love to her. **

"Don't worry, they're not going to hurt you."

"I dunno, Sam, you talk about those two like they're murdering robots."

Sam had to stifle a laugh, before looking down at Gabriel and cupping his face in his hands. "I'll protect you." He kissed Gabriel's smile gently.

He unlocked the door to his motel room, peeking around to see who was there before taking Gabriel by the wrist and pulling him inside. Dean was sitting on his bed, cleaning his gun.

"Dean…I have someone for you to meet. Where's Dad?"

"Out. Who?" Dean replied, his brow furrowed. If Sam had brought another stray dog home he'd have to give him a firm 'No' this time.

Gabriel walked in when Sam opened the door fully, all confidence. "Dean?" He glanced over him once, hands shoved into his pockets. He'd only seen him once before, for a few minutes, and they hadn't really been introduced. "I remembered you as being taller."

Dean glared at Sam. "Who's this little shit?"

Sam had to smile. This was Gabriel's defense mechanism: he'd be all bravado and swagger and a little ball of attitude if he felt the need to.

"'Little shit'," he used air quotes, "is Gabriel. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand for Dean to shake, and Dean was probably wise to check his hand for a joy buzzer first. If Gabriel didn't like someone he let them know.

"Oh yeah, he talks about you all the time. You and Sammy are real close, aren't ya?" Dean winked at Sam, who glared back.

"_Real _close," Gabriel muttered, but Dean didn't hear him because at that very moment, John came home.

He'd just been to the morgue, so naturally was wearing a dark blue suit and tie. He passed a hand over his face in exhaustion as he came in, and though he just wanted to take a shower and settle down, judging by the amount of people in the room, he correctly guessed he wouldn't be so lucky.

"Evenin' boys. Who's your friend?"

"Dad," Sam said, coming up behind Gabriel and placing hands on his shoulders. He hoped to God he would have a semblance of respect for his father. "This is Gabriel."

"Oh yeah," John said, smiling a little. "The psychic kid."

"Pain-in-the-ass psychic kid," muttered Dean, settling back down to fiddle with his gun some more.

Gabriel spun around, a finger held out. "Watch it, chuckles."

"I _would _watch it if I were you, Dean," Sam warned, giving him that look that meant 'Listen.'

"What's _that _supposed to me-?"

"Dean, be quiet for a minute. Gabriel, would you like a drink?" John asked, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it off the back of a chair. "All we have is beer." He laughed. "I'm not sure your mom would be too happy with me, on second thought. We have water?" he offered feebly.

"That's ok, thanks, Mr. Www…" Sam elbowed him not-so-subtly in the ribs. "Mr. Wesson."

* * *

Eventually, once Dean had stopped being moody, once John had stopped smiling falsely, trying to be a good host, and once Gabriel had stopped glaring at Dean, they set up a pattern of sigils and candles on the cheap-ass-excuse-for-a-dining table.

They were going to have a séance of sorts – John suggested it – to try and 'concentrate' Gabriel's 'power'. Gabriel had just found it hard not to laugh, but apparently the Winchesters were taking this very seriously.

Sam made no actions regarding their relationship, except for taking every opportunity possible to touch him: he'd rest a hand gently on the small of his back every so often, and he'd made sure he sat next to him at the table, just for an excuse to brush his knee against his and of course, to hold his hand.

He squeezed it gently, giving Gabriel a reassuring smile.

John told them all to close their eyes, and concentrate all their energy on inspiring a vision from Gabriel. Dean grumbled.

"God damnit, I'm hungry."

"Can it, Dean."

"Yeah you can talk, Sam, you ate the last donut!"

"Boys!" John scolded, at the same time Sam said: "Did not!"

"Oh, no, of course not," Dean whispered in reply, sneering. "'Cause you're the _good_ son."

After a second of silence, that intense burning pain began behind Gabriel's eyes again, and he narrowly avoided knocking over several candles as his hands flew to his head, and he reflexively crouched over the table in pain.

* * *

"_Yes, because I am a good son."_

_A room, battered, dreary, unlived in, and far too small for Gabriel's liking. The architecture was not itself particularly small just…the room was packed full of ego, or personality, or power. _

"_Okay, well, trust me, pal. Take it from someone who knows — that is a dead-end street."_

_It's Dean again. What is it with this man always appearing in his visions? There's someone else, too, both familiar and alien at the same time – like a vague childhood memory of someone you thought you knew._

_He speaks, his voice smooth and regal, almost rich like the sound of a trumpet and just as commanding._

"_And you think you know better than my Father?"_

_And Gabriel knows that was 'Father' with a capital 'F', because this man doesn't seem earthly, human even. In fact, he's practically glowing, at least to Gabriel's eyes. _

_That's when Gabriel realizes he knows the black-haired man in front of him – back in real life he's sitting right there on his left. He's the same, it's him maybe twenty years earlier, but he's so different. His voice less gruff, his eyes less tired. _

_Then it all fades, the voice of this man who may be Sam's father fading into a muffled silence._

_

* * *

_

"He's coming round!" someone shouted as a hand grasped his shoulder. "Gabe, are you okay?"

Sam's touch on his shoulder was comforting at the same time as being firm and demanding.

He groaned. His head felt like someone had given it a once-over with a steamroller, and he wanted more than anything to just collapse on the table and fall the fuck asleep. The voices, however, would not be denied.

"Ugh," Gabriel said, finally, lifting his head and immediately regretting doing so.

"What did you see, son?" That was John's voice, so gruff and so unlike the voice of his younger self.

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "It was you," was all he said, but he could practically feel the boys' eyes snap to their father.

"Dad?" Sam asked, skeptical. "You sure?"

"Well, it _was_ you," he said, pointing a finger towards where John's voice had come from, though his eyes were still closed. "But it _wasn't _you, if you get what I'm saying."

He supposed John did, because when Gabriel cracked his eyes open to look at him, he was nodding.

"Well, if it wasn't him, who was it?"

Gabriel was pensive for a moment, brow furrowing in concentration. "Ummm…it was…my brother."

There was silence then, and all three Winchesters just gawked at him.

Sam touched him gently on the shoulder, saying: "But Gabe, you don't have a brother."

He coughed, looking down. He didn't think he had one either. "I _did_ have a brother. A long time ago."

Sam looked at him sadly.

"I lost him." It didn't feel like a loss though – it's not as though he had any memories of this maybe-brother who looked like Sam's dad. He'd just felt a strong fraternal instinct to the guy in the vision, but it's not like he felt the same thing for John.

He stroked small circles on Gabriel's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Gabe."

"He didn't die," he replied quickly and simply. "He just…left. Or maybe _I _left," he added, after a little thought.

The family just looked at him, at a loss of what to say or do. John's eyes were calculating, adding up things in his head, while Dean was just glaring at him, arms folded across his chest. Sam was crouched by his chair, hand still on his shoulder, looking at him with those sad puppy eyes.

"But hey," Gabriel said, his tone brightening. He stood, unheeding of the pounding headache he still had. "Are you gonna listen to some crazy teenager with a mental problem? It's not as though any of this stuff ever comes true."

"It doesn't?"

"Nooo," Gabriel scoffed, waving a hand to pass it off as nothing. "People with wings? Come on…Sam in that God-awful white suit?" He laughed. "I mean, I know the guy's a fashion retard at best, but that's a little far, even for him."

Dean smiled at that, resisting the urge to step over and ruffle Sam's hair.

John didn't say anything, just muttered to himself and sat down on one of the beds. Sam pulled him outside.

"Hey," he said quietly, still pulling the puppy eyes.

"Hey," Gabriel replied, smirking back up at him.

Sam didn't say anything more, just pulled him into a hug, arms wrapped around his waist. For his part, Gabriel wove his arms around Sam's neck, having to stand on tiptoes to bury his face in the junction between neck and shoulder.

"Let's get you back home, huh? Get some ice cream?"

"Damn straight. I'll drive."

"No breaking speed limits!"

Gabriel sighed. "Fiiiine."

Neither of them knew that Dean had seen them through a gap in the curtains, walking off towards Gabriel's car, hand in hand. He frowned a little, then turned back to the bed, where there were still firearms to clean.

* * *

Gabriel's bedroom was tidy for once, no clothes or notes strewn on the floor. To celebrate this momentous, once-in-a-lifetime occasion, they spread a blanket on the floor. It was old and worn, and a dusty grey color, but still soft.

Sam and Gabriel were both stretched out on it now, facing each other, still-clothed legs intertwined. Sam had his hand rested gently on the back of Gabriel's neck, fingers knotted in his hair as he pulled him closer to kiss him.

He concentrated solely on the feel of Gabriel's lips on his; the gentle brush of tongues as they explored each other's mouths. He relaxed into him as his hand brushed over his hip, curling over and pulling him impossibly close.

Sam pulled away and gave him a look, peeking out from under his bangs. Gabriel knew it was That Look – the one that meant Sam really wanted to drive him crazy and watch him squirm.

He was right.

He scooched down a little, and Gabriel turned so he was on his back. Slowly and reverently, he slid his fingers under the hem of his shirt, warm, but just barely brushing the skin of his stomach. He felt Gabriel tense a little under the contact, so breath-light and gentle. He moved his fingers to his flanks, brushing up and down a few times before lifting his hands right up and removing the t-shirt with a little help from Gabriel.

He ran his fingers along his torso, brushing pads of thumbs over his nipples, and relishing the sound of Gabriel's soft whimper. His hands moved to Gabriel's inner arm, turning it outwards with one hand and dragging fingertips along it with the other. He brushed fingers up and down the pale skin there, tracing the blue veins from wrist to elbow.

Soon Gabriel was humming contentedly, his eyes fallen shut, and Sam moved his attentions to the other arm, this time continuing up. Gabriel's breath stuttered when he felt Sam's lips press against his neck, while his hand continued to stroke against his side.

"God, Sam, your _fingers_," he muttered, burying his fingers in Sam's hair.

"Mmm?" he responded, slipping just the tips of those calloused fingers below the waist of his jeans, his other hand slowly but smoothly unhitching his belt buckle.

Sam was pressed impossibly close, his heat encompassing Gabriel as he whipped his belt off. He palmed the bulge in his jeans briefly, hearing Gabriel's breathing and the rasp of skin on denim. Sam could feel his chest rise and fall with each controlled breath, and felt it hitch when he popped open the button and slid the zipper down with a resounding 'tick tick tick'.

He slid lower, mouthing along Gabriel's collarbone, while at the same time easing both his jeans and boxers down, encouraging him to lift up his hips to help him. He pulled them clean off, and Gabriel was naked before him, thinking it was a little unfair how Sam was still fully clothed.

But it stopped mattering, because Sam had started to place wet, open mouthed kisses all down his torso, pausing to lave his nipples and then to circle briefly around his belly button.

He buried his nose in the hairs at the base of Gabriel's cock, inhaling deeply. "_Jesus_, Sam…" he gasped out, his hand flying to grab tightly onto his hair as Sam licked a slow stripe up the underside of Gabriel's cock.

He bucked once, but Sam slid a hand under his left leg, propping it up and letting it rest above his shoulder. At the same time he rested his hand on Gabriel's hip, effectively holding him down.

With a smirk, he promptly took just the head in his mouth, sucking gently and swirling his tongue around it. Gabriel's hand tightened in his hair, almost painful. It wasn't pulling him anywhere, it was just clenching more tightly and digging fingernails into his scalp.

At a whispered plea from Gabriel, Sam plunged down, taking more and more of his cock as he went; for his part, Gabriel had to use all his self-restraint not to buck violently and fuck that willing mouth.

"Ugnh, Sam, you're…unh…getting better. _Fuck_."

With Sam tonguing the slit every time he pulled back like that, he wasn't going to last much longer, but, much to his annoyance, he pulled off just before Gabriel was about to come.

He groaned at the loss, but Sam looked up at him, eyes ablaze. "Since you like my fingers so much," Gabriel couldn't pull his gaze away from those red, shiny lips. "Put that tongue to good use."

He offered his fingers then, placing two against Gabriel's bottom lip. He grasped his wrist and took the fingers into his mouth, sucking like they were the best lollipop ever.

Sam bent down again, placing wet kisses up and down Gabriel's cock, praising it, the whole time moaning at the feel of his tongue on his fingers. Once he felt the fingers were sufficiently wet, he pulled them from between Gabriel's lips. He whined at the loss, but Sam quickly resumed his eager sucking of Gabriel's dick.

"Fuckin' tease, Sammy…_shit_, I'm close."

It was time for Sam to put the final nail in the coffin. Still glistening, he reached his fingers down, and without warning, swirled one digit over the Gabriel's puckered entrance. He slipped just the tip of his index finger past the tight ring of muscle, and Gabriel keened and swore.

"_Fuck!_"

With that, Gabriel came, hot spurts of come pulsing straight down Sam's throat. He _was _getting better, because this time he swallowed all of it, and pulled off with a wet pop.

Hurriedly, he unzipped himself and jacked his cock once, twice, three times, before following Gabriel, his spunk covering his fingers. Gabriel looked down at him, eyes hooded, before gesturing wordlessly to bring his hand up.

Almost hungrily, Gabriel took his fingers into his mouth again, lapping up every last drop of come. Slipping his tongue in between each finger, he made sure to cover every inch.

When he was done, Sam collapsed next to him, breathless. He pulled him in for one last kiss, sucking greedily on Sam's tongue, trying to taste himself as much as possible in Sam's mouth.

"Shit, Sam. You're _awesome_ at that."

As a thank you, Sam nipped gently at his bottom lip, smiling.

* * *

Sam was a little late home, and as usual when Sam was late, Dean was awake watching infomercials (or Casa Erotica, as was often the case). He just wouldn't get a break, would he?

After a muttered 'Sorry I'm late,' he attempted to escape to the bathroom to wash himself of the stench of sex before prolonged contact with Dean.

"Sam," he said, not angry, but not conversational either. He looked concerned.

"Yeah?"

Dean just stood and walked over to him, coughing once. He looked down as he clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, before pulling him into a tight hug.

"Dean…" he choked out, running out of air.

"You stink of sex."

"I know," Sam replied, blushing.

He pulled away, picking at his shirt. "Now I do too." He grinned, and ruffled Sam's hair, and Sam let him.

"Now, go shower this off." He paused, smiling back at Sam, before turning to crash back down on the bed.

"Alright." Sam couldn't help but grin too.


	13. Unlucky for Some

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Kripke and his posse of evil.**  
**Chapter summary: In which suspicious!Sam is suspicious (maybe it's too many Doritos), Anna gets paid, and Gabriel gets laid…but not before scaring himself shitless.**  
**A/N: Sorry about their 'friends'. I couldn't resist. XD & You guys better be grateful. I've given you porns in the last two chapters! (Also my mind is turning dirty: I keep typing 'hard' instead of 'hand' and 'suck' instead of 'such'. *headdesk*)**

**

* * *

**

It didn't take long for spring to settle in, and Sam was subconsciously aware that this hunt might soon be over, and he dreaded the thought of leaving. He decided not to spend too long thinking about it though, and that maybe the problem might disappear if he were to pay no attention to the matter.

In the meantime, Gabriel had proposed something – something daunting but so damn exciting at the same time. Sam's heart fluttered a little as he sipped at his root beer…Dean was reading something to do with the hunt, but judging by the way his eyes were drooping he was probably just reading the same sentence over and over again.

Sam cleared his throat loudly; deliberate enough, apparently to wake Dean from his stupor. "What?" he asked, cranky.

"Um," Sam stated dumbly, looking down. "Do you think I could…possibly…ahem…stayoveratGabe'stonight?"

He looked up then, expecting Dean to have that angry pout on his face that immediately meant 'no', or at least have a gay joke at hand. Instead, he was wearing a sort of sincere smile, nodding like he'd done something worth being pretty proud of. He'd seen that smile only a few times before: when Sam's soccer team had won their little county-wide tournament; maybe after his first hunt. It was suspicious.

"Yeah…yeah you can."

Sam just stared at him, eyes narrowed and looking for a lie. But he still had that smile on, genuine and so, so weird-looking.

"Okayy, I'm leaving then," he said, picking up his coat from the back of a chair and his bag from the ground, but never taking his eyes off Dean and tiptoeing around him like he was some sort of wild animal that might attack, or worse, change his mind.

"Have fun," he said, and then winked.

Definitely suspicious.

His mood was considerably improved as he walked out of the room to see Gabriel already standing by his car. He was leant up against the car, arms folded and a cheeky smile on his face.

As Sam approached, he couldn't help but smile himself; Gabe's grin was infectious like that. When Sam reached him, he reached up on tiptoes to give him a kiss, chaste but lingering.

Before Sam could protest (he still wasn't the biggest PDA fan, and there were other people in the car park) Gabriel pulled away, smiling without saying a word and leaving Sam with that tingly feeling he always got after kissing Gabriel. He slipped into the door then, leaving Sam standing dumbly.

He followed soon enough, sliding into the comfy (but slightly smelly) seat of Gabriel's car; he fired it up and loud rock music blasted out of the speakers – not that Sam wasn't completely used to that. He laughed as Gabriel fumbled to turn it down.

"So, how is Dean-o?" he asked, slinging himself backwards as he reversed out of the spot. Sam grimaced.

"I think he knows."

"About us?" Sam nodded. "So?"

Sam sighed. "I guess you're right. Doesn't matter."

"Atta boy, Sammy," he grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

They drove to a local barbeque joint – called, imaginatively enough, 'The BBQ House'. There they were meeting a few of their friends: Tom, who was a genuinely nice guy; his dad owned a mine or something. Then there was Sophie…loudmouth extraordinaire, head of the Drama Club. _Her_ boyfriend, Nate, waited tables at the BBQ House, which was partly the reason they were going there – that and Gabriel had raved incessantly about their ribs.

"Hey, boys," Sophie greeted them with a shout across the restaurant and a wave – not that they wouldn't have been able to spot her without that, since the place was all but empty.

"Hiya," Gabe said, sliding into the booth with a grin, Sam in hot pursuit. Sophie started to babble on about her latest project, while Tom listened patiently and quietly.

"…I just love the death scene, it's _so _well written…" Sam wasn't really listening, because under the table Gabe had his hand on his thigh, comforting and warm. He squeezed gently and rubbed his thumb over the denim in little circles. It tickled in all the best ways possible.

He leaned in then, because Sophie was talking animatedly at Tom about props and costumes (he listened good-naturedly). Sam felt the hot tingle of Gabriel's breath at his ear, smiling as he whispered: "Better save some room; I have dessert at home."

If it had been anyone else, Sam would have guessed that 'dessert' was an innuendo, but with Gabe it was destined to quite literally be dessert; a creamy, gooey, chocolatey dessert, possibly with jelly beans on top.

He slid his hand so their fingers were intertwined before chuckling against his neck. "Really looking forward to tonight," he breathed, with such want that it sent shivers up and down Sam's spine, and made anticipation settle low in his stomach. He laughed quietly again.

Someone above them cleared their throat loudly. "If you two lovebirds are _quite_ finished," Nate said, standing impatiently with his pad in hand. They both looked up, guiltily, but under the table, Gabriel squeezed his hand even tighter. He smirked.

"Yes, I'll have the ribs." He hadn't even looked at his menu, and slid it along the table towards him. Sam hadn't looked at it either, and sheepishly peeked through his.

It all looked…really disgusting, if he was honest. He settled on 'Brunswick Stew', whatever that was.

It turned out to be pretty tasty, actually. Gabriel agreed, because they'd been cliché enough to let each other taste their meals. (He'd also taken great enjoyment in licking off the barbeque sauce from Sam's fingers after he'd tasted the ribs, much to Tom and Sophie's disgust.)

Slipping into Gabriel's car, completely sated (but not too full for dessert), Sam grinned. He couldn't resist leaning over and stealing a quick kiss, as he'd been restraining himself all night. It turned a little deeper than planned, and when they pulled away they were both breathless.

With a sly smile, Gabriel turned, pulled on to the street and drove back to his place, gripping onto Sam's hand the whole time.

* * *

Sometimes the two of them talked about the most ridiculous things; this time the short conversation in the car ride back to Gabriel's place covered everything from the evil army of pineapples who were going to take over the world to the rumor that Mrs. Adams (the chemistry teacher) was pregnant and that Mr. Prowse (the physics teacher) was the father. Gabriel then broke into a chorus of 'Let's Get Physical', and of course, Sam burst out laughing and couldn't stop for a long time.

Dusk was just beginning to fall as they pulled into Gabriel's garage, and Gabriel led him in with a huge grin on his face.

Anna was standing at the entrance to the dining room, arms folded. The door was shut too, and it looked as though she wouldn't let them in until they gave her something she wanted.

"You owe me big time," she began, scowling playfully.

"I do. Thanks, sis, seriously," Gabriel beamed, and not-so-subtly slipped a twenty dollar bill into her hand. She gave a smile and sauntered off, picking up a sleeping bag and leaving the way they had come in.

With an even bigger grin and an enthusiastic arm-wave, Gabriel ushered Sam into the dining room. What he saw made his jaw drop.

Gabriel had really gone over the top with dessert. Well, not the dessert itself, which was just two slices of chocolate cake with Cool Whip, but the _room_. There were candles absolutely everywhere, and the plates and forks were like, his parents' fancy ones for when the Queen came for afternoon tea. He put a freaking _tablecloth_ down, for Heaven's sake.

"Cake?" Gabriel asked enthusiastically, walking to the table and pulling out the seat for Sam to sit on.

Instead, Sam walked up to Gabriel and kissed him, one hand on his cheek and the other slowly sliding around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Thank you," he said when they finally broke apart, smiling.

"Technically, Anna did all this," he admitted, gesturing to the room. Sam didn't relax his grip on him, though, and leaned down to kiss him again.

It started off as just a brush of lips, but when Gabriel's grip on his neck tightened and he swiped his tongue briefly over his bottom lip, they couldn't help but turn it deeper.

Gabriel's tongue was fucking _magical_ and still tasted good, even though the last thing he ate was barbeque. Their tongues brushed together and all Sam could taste was the anticipation of all that tonight promised to be. And _shit,_ Gabriel knew how to turn someone on just by kissing them. Sam felt himself harden just under Gabriel's touch and kiss.

Gabriel pulled away first, but still stroked a hand up and down Sam's flank. "You know what?" he asked, his voice wrecked and hoarse. "Screw cake," he grinned devilishly. "Let's go upstairs." There was a wink in his voice, if that made sense.

Sam only had time to nod before Gabriel grabbed his wrist and practically sprinted up the stairs, the whole time thinking that Gabe must have been pretty damn horny to choose sex over cake.

When they got to Gabriel's bedroom, Sam's jaw dropped again, and further this time. There were candles everywhere here, too, and the room, for once, was clean – the floor devoid of books, the bed made.

When Sam glanced at him, Gabriel just shrugged, and said: "Anna. She's a friggin' Saint."

With that, Sam pulled him into the most gigantic bear hug ever. Gabriel hugged back, but soon enough, he felt him place kisses on his clothed shoulder, trailing upwards to his neck.

With the ounce of forethought Sam had left, he steered them both towards the bed (clean sheets! Wow) and they collapsed onto it, laughing.

Sam shucked his jacket and shirt in record time, and Gabriel followed suit. Soon enough they were both down to their boxers. Gabriel pulled away, and opened his mouth to speak.

"Sam, I…" he began, while Sam himself cupped his jaw and trailed open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

He was about to finish that sentence with _…love you_, but God help him if that wasn't fucking terrifying. What if Sam didn't say it back? What if it was too early? _Shit_. Saying…what he wanted to say would make him so damn vulnerable and it would only be too easy for Sam to rip out his heart and stomp all over it.

His kisses had reached the skin over his heart – could he tell how wildly it was beating? – and he glanced up from under his lashes. "You…what?" he asked playfully.

Gabriel swallowed thickly. Then, plastering a smirk on his face, reached down to palm a hand gently over Sam's still-covered hard-on. "I love…" he hesitated. "…your cock."

Sam grinned, and moved to press their bodies impossibly closer. Gabriel's hand became the filling of a crotch-sandwich and both boys groaned a little, Sam's eyes slipping closed. Experimentally, he did it again, eliciting a gasped plea from Gabriel.

Sam slowly flipped them, pinning Gabriel down on the bed by his arms, and reaching down with one hand to pull first Gabriel's, then his boxers down. Fingers trembling slightly, he trailed a hand down Gabriel's stomach, raising gooseflesh. He never took his gaze away from Gabriel's hazel eyes, and slowly – tentatively – wrapped a giant-hand around both their dicks.

If Gabriel had thought the feeling of hand-on-cock, or mouth-on-cock felt good, the feeling of _cock_-on-cock was absolutely, utterly, life-shatteringly _fuckawesome_. Especially when Sam moved, their silken flesh causing delicious friction like nothing else.

"Well…" he said, rubbing their noses together and smiling. "I love…your cock, too."

He committed the sound of Sam's broken moans to memory, because if it was possible, Gabriel loved him even more when he brushed his thumb over both their slits and collected precome. He couldn't help bucking into the feel of Sam's erection against his – it was _fucking_ euphoric.

Sam leaned down to kiss him, slow and tender, messy and loving…he too, apparently, couldn't help but thrust his hips forward, but he swallowed the gasp Gabriel let out.

He took Gabriel's bottom lip between his teeth, bit just hard enough that it'd be a little swollen later, and _fuck _did the thought of wearing a mark of Sam's tomorrow turn him on. He'd be at _church _and everything…all the while the ever-present reminder of _this_, of Sam.

Sam rolled his hips forward again, and settled into a hypnotizing rhythm, feeding off of the wanton noises Gabriel was making and capturing some of them with his lips. The rhythm was slow, unhurried, frustrating enough to make Gabriel want to buck up and fuck mercilessly into his hand.

But no, when Sam leaned down, his breath ghosting over his ear and the skin around it, Gabriel felt a shudder run through him. He gently took the lobe between his teeth, tugging at it twice, before muttering into his ear.

"Shit, Gabe," he said, gasping, "you'll be the death of me…your cock – fuck!" he exclaimed, as Gabriel rolled his hips again. "…And those pretty little noises you make…" Gabriel let out a prolonged moan, for his sake. "_Fuck_, Gabe, I'm close."

With that, he picked up his pace, sliding his hand faster along both their shafts. It only took a few more strokes and Sam was coming hard, groaning Gabriel's name into his ear. It didn't take long for Gabriel to follow, painting their stomachs with white streaks of come. Hearing Sam lose it was damn near the hottest thing ever, not to mention the biggest ego-boost he could have found.

Sam collapsed next to him, breathless, and started idly tracing patterns in the come on Gabriel's stomach.

As the two of them began to sink into post-coital bliss, Gabriel had a thought. He turned his head to the side, catching Sam's heavy-lidded eye. Hoarsely, he suggested: "Cake?"


	14. Fourteen Minutes of Shame

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**  
**Chapter Summary: In which 'breakfast in bed' gets a whole new meaning, a certain fallen angel gets a few dirty thoughts at church, and jealous!Gabriel gets _very _jealous.**  
**A/N: Ok, it's officially a disease. I typed 'wank' instead of 'want'. *smacks head* Come on, brain, get into gear!**

* * *

When Sam woke up, he was expecting to find a body next to him, warm – possibly with an arm draped over his chest, and to be greeted with a soft kiss and a 'Morning, Sammy.'

He saw no such thing. The bed was empty, cold, and distinctly devoid of Gabriel. He did, however, notice what seemed to be the smell of bacon coming from downstairs.

Now, Sam didn't normally indulge in bacon, but he figured since he was being bad anyway, he might as well go down and enjoy it – just for today.

"Gabe?" he yelled as he came down the stairs, having grabbed a hoodie of his from the floor – he was only wearing that and his boxers, but he figured that'd be ok because Gabriel's mom was working the night shift at the inn, and his dad was probably preparing for some service or other.

He heard what sounded like, 'Oh, shit, you're awake!' followed by a loud hiss, followed by a call of "Sam! Go back to bed!" Another hiss. "Ow! Crap!"

Sam grinned, and, ignoring Gabriel, went down the stairs anyway. He was in the kitchen, his back to him, working at the stove. There was a forgotten, half-made bowl of scrambled eggs on the counter beside him, and he was swearing over a frying pan.

Careful to pick a frame of time when Gabriel wouldn't burn himself, Sam crept up behind him, sliding his hands around his waist. He started and swore, but melted a little when he saw the puppy-dog expression on Sam's face as he rested his chin on his shoulder.

"Morning," he muttered grinning up at Gabriel, who laughed.

"You were supposed to stay in bed!" Gabriel scolded, though his heart wasn't in it.

"But," Sam pouted, sliding his arms a little further around his waist, and a little under the hem of his t-shirt. "You weren't there."

Setting his spatula down, Gabriel gave him a teasing smack to the head. "Hey!" Sam laughed, leaning back and letting go of him, but not before placing a quick kiss on the skin behind his ear.

He leant against the counter. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

"Do what?" he asked, flipping the bacon.

Sam gestured at the kitchen counter. "This. Uhm…breakfast," he laughed.

"In _bed,_" Gabriel corrected proudly "…And I so did have to. Would have been a crappy host if I didn't."

Smiling, Sam trailed his fingertips up Gabriel's arm, before coming to stand behind him, hands once again resting on his hips, like they belonged there. He buried his face in Gabriel's hair, muttering: "…Can think of something else I'd like in bed."

At that Gabriel turned, ignoring the bacon. He grinned up at Sam. "You're fucking insatiable, aren't you?"

Sam pouted. "Hey. You haven't even kissed me properly yet this morning."

"We'll have to remedy that, then." He stood on tiptoes, snaking a hand up and around Sam's neck to bury his fingers in his hair. He pulled him down, and when their lips were just a breath apart, said: "Promise that if I kiss you now you'll go back to bed and act surprised?"

"Promise."

Sam lost himself once again in the hypnotic taste and touch of Gabriel's lips.

* * *

"Oh! Breakfast in bed! Gabe, you shouldn't have!"

Gabriel grinned as he placed the tray on Sam's lap. On both the plates was a serving of bacon, a heap of scrambled eggs; two glasses of orange juice and two tiny pitchers of syrup managed to be squeezed in alongside the third plate that held two pancakes with a little dollop of whipped cream on top.

Sam glanced up at Gabriel, beaming. "Thanks, Gabe. You really didn't have to."

"Did. Now, eat."

Carefully, Gabriel slipped under the covers next to Sam. Sam picked up both glasses of juice, placed one on the windowsill next to the bed, and reached over Gabriel's shoulder to place the other on the bedside. Not unintentionally, he left his arm draped nonchalantly over Gabriel's shoulder.

"Sneaky bastard," Gabriel muttered, flashing Sam a grin before tucking into his eggs.

Sam started on his own – it turned out to be the best breakfast he'd ever had, and if his repeated praise of the meal hadn't told Gabriel so, the little moans of contentment did.

"Gabe," he said, swallowing a mouthful of the eggs. "Are you magic or something? These eggs – how did you…?" Sam was struck speechless.

"The trick is to do the eggs in the bacon grease. Just wait 'til you try the pancakes," he tempted, waggling his eyebrows. "And as an answer to your question: yes, I am magic, but only 'coz you made me magic."

Sam laughed, nudging Gabriel's shoulder. "Dude, cheesy line much?"

Gabriel just laughed, nudging him back.

Once their plates had been cleared, they each stole a pancake and fought over the tiny blob of whipped cream – inevitably enough, the fight got a little ridiculous and the whipped cream ended up getting flicked and landed right smack bang in the middle of Sam's chest.

This would have been a slight problem if Sam had still been wearing the hoodie, but he slipped it off before he'd gotten back into bed, so the slowly melting blob began to trickle down his chest.

And it _definitely _wasn't a problem for Gabriel.

Carefully picking up the almost-empty tray and placing it a safe distance away, Gabriel straddled Sam's hips and zoned in on the blob which was crawling down his chest.

He bent down and began to lap up the cream, looking suspiciously cat-like, and Sam might have laughed if it hadn't been for – Oh, _shit…_ Gabriel had finished with the blob and moved on to simply trail his tongue over Sam's chest, pausing, but not for too long, on nipples.

Sam had to laugh when Gabriel sat up again, though, because he had a smudge of whipped cream on his chin. He couldn't help himself – he lunged forward and kissed it away.

The resulting kiss was messy and tasted like cream, all teeth and slick tongues, and Gabriel chuckled into it. Sam's hands teased under the gray t-shirt, skimming over skin in the attempt to touch as much of it as possible.

Gabriel pulled away, an evil-looking smirk on his lips. With a low chuckle, he leaned back to where the tray still sat, and picked up one of the syrups. Sam put two and two together and came up with 'sticky' – he shook his head, but apparently Gabriel wouldn't be deterred.

"Mmm," he said, dipping a finger into the thick liquid briefly and popping it in his mouth. "_Strawberry_."

Slowly, he lifted the jar, about to pour the syrup on Sam's chest – as much as Sam wanted to stop it, his arms wouldn't co-operate and he did nothing to prevent it.

The perfect time for the alarm on Gabriel's wrist to chime.

"Crap," he said, scrambling away from Sam and carefully placing the jar on the bedside table.

Sam just glanced at him, puzzled. "What?"

"Church," Gabriel explained shortly, digging through his closet and throwing clothes across the room in a hurried attempt to find the clothes he was looking for. "Aha!" he said, pulling out a slightly rumpled black suit.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot you had to go to church," Sam said, trying and failing to stop his breath hitching when Gabriel pulled off his t-shirt. He was quickly made decent again when the white dress shirt was pulled on.

"I'm sorry Sam," he said, hopping into pants as he hopped over to Sam. He leaned over and gave him a quick kiss as he did up the buttons. "You can stay here, or come with?" he offered, but then paused for thought. "Though…either of those options would make me have _completely _inappropriate church-thoughts." He laughed.

"It's okay," Sam replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and watching as Gabriel did his blood-red tie. "I have homework to do; I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Huh? Oh," he sounded a little disappointed. He fumbled with his tie again because his first attempt had failed. "I was hoping…uh…" he coughed. "I was hoping I could take you to dinner tonight?"

Sam looked up – that was something he hadn't been expecting. Hadn't Gabriel done enough this weekend?

"I mean…somewhere a little classier than the 'BBQ House'." He pulled on a sock.

Sam's smile grew. "Yeah…yeah, that'd be great."

Gabriel grinned. "Awesome!" He pulled Sam up off the bed and into a one-armed hug (the other arm was slipping into a suit jacket). "Pick you up at seven?"

"Gabe," Sam whined. "You don't have to go all-out, okay?"

"Promise," he said with a wink. He tossed Sam a house key, and disappeared out the bedroom door, before thinking twice and sprinting back to give Sam one last little kiss.

* * *

"Hi, Mom; sorry I'm late."

"Hey, honey. Here." His mother handed him a hymnal she'd saved for him. She nudged his shoulder and smiled. She whispered: "So…did you have a good night?"

Gabriel blushed wildly. "It was _agreeable_. How about yours?"

She sighed. "We had sixteen complaints in total."

"But there's only nine rooms."

"They were all from the same room."

Gabriel made a pained face. "Ouch."

Before they could say anything else, the service started. But his mother hissed in his ear, a little through the sermon: "I'm glad you and Sam had a good time."

Gabriel sunk deeper into his seat and blushed.

And God help him if he couldn't think of anything else the entire service.

* * *

Sam was sure the words 'fucking _girl_' had passed Dean's lips several times in the course of the evening, ever since Sam had finished his history essay at about five.

Okay, so maybe he'd been sitting on the end of the bed for the last half hour, and maybe he'd been peering hopefully out of the window every time headlights drove past, but he didn't see how that made him a girl.

Alright, so maybe it made him a little bit of a girl.

He had decided not to go _too _fancy – he had a suit jacket thrown over his cleanest shirt and a pair of jeans. It was hard, not knowing what Gabriel was planning, and he didn't know if he should change to black tie or something even less.

Turned out, though, that what he was wearing was perfectly fine, because Gabriel was dressed similarly, when he finally showed up _three whole minutes late. _

To Sam's horror, though, after he'd greeted him, Gabriel slid a hand in Sam's. He hissed: "What're you doing?" motioning with his head towards Dean, lounging on the bed, who raised a hand in greeting.

"What? You said he already knows."

Sam turned around to Dean, face red. Dean just grinned. "Yeah, I know. Listen, kid," he stood, addressing Gabriel. "Have 'im back before midnight, hmm?" He winked. "And also," he added, gesturing for Gabriel to come a little closer. "You hurt him? I'm gonna give you the biggest pounding of your _life_. Mmmkay?"

"Deeean."

"Yes, Mr. Winchester," Gabriel replied with a grin.

"…And bring me back a swan."


	15. Fifteen Minutes to Midnight

**Cred to: highermagic, 'cause she's beyond awesome. && theinsaneeraser who brainstormed with me when I got writer's block 3**  
**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**  
**Chapter Summary: In which cookies, jealous!Gabe and more jealous!Gabe**

**

* * *

**

Gabriel drove them to a place called 'The Parson's Table' – turned out it was an old church that was modified and turned into a restaurant. Sam grimaced when he looked at the prices, no matter how many times Gabriel told him not to worry about it, that he'd get it and if Sam even offered to pay he'd make him do his chores for a week.

He settled on the filet mignon – it sounded super fancy but really delicious. Gabriel ordered fish.

"Thanks," Sam muttered sarcastically, once the waiter had gone.

"For what?"

"For ordering fish," Sam sighed, trying to pull his most pissed-looking face but failing. "I'm the one who has to kiss you, you know."

"Hey," Gabriel shrugged. "No-one's forcing you to."

"You're right," Sam added with a sly, sideways grin. "Maybe I just won't anymore…" he threatened with a glint in his eye.

For a brief split-second, Gabriel looked up, horrified. Almost immediately his expression changed to the same shit-eating grin Sam wore.

"You're a sly one, Winchester, I'll give you that. But, if you insist, I'll eat a mint." He winked.

* * *

"So," Sam began, once he'd finished the steak and was about to begin the cheesy noodles on the side. "Do I have to save space for dessert again? Or can I eat up?"

"Nah, man, eat as much as you want." Gabriel speared an asparagus and stuffed it into his mouth in one bite. He grinned around it. "But we can have _dessert_, if you know what I mean," he said, once he'd swallowed, waggling his eyebrows.

"I think the whole restaurant knows what you mean."

"Please. I'm the king of subtle."

"Oh, yeah. Totally."

"Shut up and eat your food," Gabriel joked, smirking. "Or no dessert."

Sam rolled his eyes, laughing. "What, not even assorted fruits? Or a plate of cookies waiting for me straight from the oven?"

Gabriel just stared, eyes wide and blank, for one, horrible, half of a second, that same pressing silence that Sam had grown all too accustomed to filling the air.

"Shit," Sam breathed, knowing what was coming and rushing to Gabriel's side.

Gabriel's eyes slid shut in what looked like a fast-approaching migraine.

* * *

"_Hey, honey. Cookies?"_

_Sam's sitting there, that's definitely Sam, maybe college age Sam, but Gabriel'd recognize him no matter the age. If that isn't all, he's hunched over a book – a huge, ridiculously thick text book with lots of very small writing – and he's got his 'studying' face on. Brows pulled together, lips in a tight line. Yeah, definitively Sam. _

_But Gabriel doesn't know who the other person is. She's blonde, athletic, and she's leaning over Sam and pouting her perfect pink lips. And he tries _so _hard to restrain the growl that forms in his throat over that. _

"_Straight from the oven…!" she taunts in a sing-song voice. Gabriel can see the smile creeping up on Sam's face, even when she wafts the plate under his nose. Can't she see he's studying?_

_He snatches one off the plate with a grin, but he doesn't eat it. Instead, he takes the whole plate from her, sets it down, then picks her up by the waist to sit her on the table. _

"_Can't resist your cookies, Jess, you know that." He leans in for a quick kiss – Gabriel uses all his restraint not to tackle them for it…also, the fact that it's a vision means whatever he does won't make any difference. _

_She's got her hands draped over his neck and doesn't let go when he pulls away, still grinning._

"_So…you're trying to butter me up for something." It isn't a question – he's sure of it._

"_Am not! Can't I make cookies for my boyfriend without a motive?" she asks, grinning right back at him. He raises his eyebrows like he's chastising a child. She caves. "Fine. Brady and I are going to a post-exam party on Friday…I know," she stops him before he can protest; "you have one more test, but please? Kick back a little."_

_He stares at her for a few seconds, before his smile once more widens. "Anything, dearest." He gives her a slow, loving kiss. _

_Gabriel frowns. 'Dearest?' Is it just him, or has Sam ever used a pet name like that on him? _

_He can feel his eyebrows pull together as he watches Sam and this 'Jess' girl continue to kiss. _

_The scene fades, and not too soon, in his opinion. _

_

* * *

_

Fuck Sam if he knew what to do with a guy having a vision in the middle of a restaurant.

Thankfully, it didn't seem like a bad one – he was only clutching his head and moaning, and not curling in on himself on a ball on the floor – so, thinking it was the best thing to do, Sam half-carried him to the men's room, which was blessedly empty.

That's where they were standing when Gabriel came to, bent over the sink, Sam stroking soothing fingers through his hair and up and down his back, and holding up a cold paper towel to Gabriel's forehead.

"Hey," he said softly, dabbing at his brow again. "What did you see?"

Sam's voice was laced with concern, and when Gabriel looked up in the mirror at him, he was frowning, green eyes full of worry. His hand still rubbed comforting circles at the base of his spine.

He suddenly felt a wave of possessiveness wash over him – whoever this 'Jess' was, she wasn't going to get him, and she _certainly _wasn't going to make him cookies or give him pet names. Not in this dimension or any – not if Gabriel had anything to say about it.

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel met Sam's gaze in the mirror for a prolonged moment, eyes full of heat and a sort of misdirected anger. Sam stared back, a little worried.

Without warning, Gabriel spun around and grabbed the lapels of Sam's jacket, throwing their bodies into the nearest blank wall – Gabriel could be stronger than he looked and before Sam could gasp, the wind was knocked out of him.

Gabriel growled, his mouth hovering mere millimeters above Sam's: "You're _mine._"

It was barely audible in the room above their heavy breathing, but Sam heard it well enough. Without preamble, Gabriel closed the gap, thrusting his tongue unabashedly into Sam's mouth; Sam welcomed it eagerly, despite still being shocked.

As Gabriel's hands began to roam, slipping under Sam's shirt and exploring expanses of warm flesh, he moved his lips to Sam's jaw, placing little nips along it. Even if Sam had wanted to protest, he wouldn't have been able to remember what he wanted to say anyway. He rested his hands gently on Gabriel's hips, pulling him ever closer.

By now, Gabriel had reached his ear, and he lifted his head a little to take the lobe between his teeth, giving it one quick pull. Releasing it, he hissed directly into Sam's ear: "Understand?"

All Sam could do was nod – this new Gabriel had taken him by surprise.

It was…well, it was a gigantic turn-on.

When he got his voice back, Sam muttered into Gabriel's jaw. "Who else's would I be?"

Gabriel growled – fucking _growled_ – before grabbing him by the front of his shirt and practically throwing him into the nearest stall. He stalked in after him, eyes aglow with desire, and almost predatory.

"Gabe…" he began, but he was silenced by Gabriel's mouth on his again, tongue chasing after his and brushing hot against it. When they broke apart the stall door had been closed and locked – a feat Sam would have thought impressive if he didn't have to worry about Gabriel currently sliding his hands under his dinner jacket and sliding it from his shoulders.

"Gabe…" he tried again, but lost his flow somewhat at the feel of Gabriel mouthing along his neck and sucking briefly on his pulse point. "Gabe," he said for the third time, more firmly. "What did you see?" He couldn't resist sliding his hands under Gabriel's loose shirt, too, just to feel that smooth skin he knew so well.

Gabriel pulled back, an angry pout on his face. "Jess," he spat, pure loathing.

"Who? I mean, Gabe mmpfh…" he was cut off by means of another searing kiss, Gabriel's fingers skirting the waistline of his jeans. "Who's Jess?"

"Blonde…" after each word he placed an open-mouthed kiss down Sam's torso, undoing buttons as he went. "Gorgeous…cookie-maker…" He stopped, raking his nails over Sam's stomach – Sam shivered, but thought he heard what sounded suspiciously like 'College girlfriend.'

"Whoa, whoa. Hold up." Sam pushed Gabriel gently away, and he obeyed. "College girlfriend?" he repeated. Gabriel nodded like an angry toddler.

Suddenly Gabriel was pulled forward again, Sam's giant hand grasping the hair at the back of his head. He pulled their chests flush, speaking directly onto Gabriel's lips. "Someone a little jealous?"

Whatever Gabriel's answer was, it was lost in Sam's mouth.

"No," he said firmly, once Sam let him breathe. "Just can't help it if I want you all to myself…" He trailed off, because somewhere in all that mess, the button on Sam's pants had come undone. The reason he knew this was because Gabriel's hand was snaking easily past both his jeans and his boxers, a little cold and making Sam tremble.

Sam gasped his name as he took his cock in hand – he'd been hard pretty much from the get-go – and clutched at his shoulders as he began to slide his hand up and down the shaft agonizingly slowly.

"Mmm, Sammy," Gabriel crooned in his ear, low and sensual. A stroke upwards, a little faster than the others; Sam sucked in a breath. "Can you believe we're doing this in a public bathroom?" He chuckled darkly, and Sam began to buck his hips into Gabriel's fist. "Classy place, too."

Sam groaned, his voice echoing throughout the tiled walls.

"Shh," Gabriel commanded, placing his forefinger over Sam's parted lips. With what iota of brain power Sam had left, he gave the pad of his finger a tiny kiss. "Someone will hear you."

Sam just let out another loud, gasping moan as he passed his thumb over the slit and picked up pre-come, before Gabriel once more silenced him with a kiss. Sam simply groaned into it, even more so when Gabriel pulled away, biting his bottom lip.

"These people paid for a fancy meal and now they're getting a live audio feed to a sex show, thanks to you," Gabriel growled into his ear, a smile in his voice. Sam could feel himself getting closer to release, and moved his hips faster, shamelessly slamming them back with more force against the tiled wall behind him. "Anyone could come in and catch us." Sam arched and gasped, eyes sliding shut.

"P-please…"

"Please what, Sammy?"

Just then, some careless customer thought it'd be the perfect time to come in and use the bathroom.

The boys froze, both knowing it was in their interests to stay utterly silent; the only sound was that of their breathing, which mingled in the small gap between their mouths and seemed unnecessarily loud.

Trust Gabriel to screw that up.

He silently placed his finger against his lips, and then slowly but surely began to pick up the steady pace on Sam's cock once again.

Sam's head hit the wall with a heavy thump as he bit his lip trying to stay quiet. As Gabriel picked up the pace, however, he couldn't help but let out the tiniest of whimpers from the back of his throat. Gabriel was forced to clamp a hand over his mouth.

He leaned in, breaths hot next to his ear, and, picking up the pace slightly, breathed the word 'Come.'

The agony of coming silently made Sam squeeze his eyes tightly and bang his head against the tile wall, bucking his hips as Gabriel milked him slowly through his orgasm. He sagged, his knees buckling a little, but Gabriel held him up.

Gabriel placed one last gentle kiss on his lips as the door swung closed and the still-oblivious patron left the restroom.

* * *

Gabriel left way too much in the form of payment, skipping out of the restaurant as quickly as possible. Some of the old ladies who were dining threw them disapproving glares; one, though, they could swear had winked.

As soon as they made it to Gabriel's car, he pushed Sam up against it, attacking his mouth once more with a sloppy kiss. He bucked his hips against Sam's desperately.

"Can't wait until we get home," he mumbled between kisses along Sam's jaw and neck. "Need you _now_." The way he said it was almost a threat, punctuated by another deep thrust against Sam's hip.

Behind him, Sam fumbled with the door handle, maneuvering while keeping his lips glued to Gabriel's the whole time. He crouched and scooched himself down the back seat, Gabriel following and crawling above him like some kind of wild cat.

"Shit," Sam breathed, suddenly remembering something.

"I know, Sammy," he replied, continuing his praise of Sam's neck, and grinding down against him again.

"No, no," Sam gasped, placing two palms on Gabriel's chest to push him away a little.

"What's wrong?"

"We didn't get Dean his leftovers!"

There was a pause before Gabriel burst out laughing. When the laughter subsided, he carded a hand through Sam's hair.

"Dean can live without the leftovers, I think. I can show you something more fun to do…" He trailed off, giving the tip of Sam's nose a peck before brushing his lips ever so gently over Sam's in a way that made him want to beg for more.

Gabriel was right. It was a lot more fun.


	16. A Little More 'Kiss Me'

**Word Count: ~ 2,000 (this chapter)**  
**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**  
**Chapter Summary: In which motel-room-grappling, wet-grass-tackling, and Dad-walk-talking. :)**  
**A/N: Um, so it's been…*checks watch*…uhhh…a really long time since I posted, and for that I am sorry. *feebly offers fic* Will this make it better?**

* * *

When Sam eventually made it home – it was a little late, he hoped Dean wouldn't be too mad, seeing as it was a school night – Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, half-filled glass in hand.

He looked up at Sam as he came in, eyes morose and a little red.

"What's wrong?" Sam's eyebrows knitted together as Dean coughed and set down his glass.

He took a deep breath. "Dean?"

"He found out."

There was a horrible pause.

"He…"

"Dad. He found out."

"Dad…? Bu…Who told him?"

Dean raised his hands in surrender. "It wasn't me. I swear. I don't know how he found out, but I promise it wasn't me."

With a whimper of defeat, Sam collapsed onto his bed, arms flopping uselessly at his sides.

Every dad wanted their sons to grow up to be little versions of them – someone who they could sit and watch the football with; a family man. Sam didn't know how John would react to finding out his son liked guys, but he was guessing he wouldn't exactly be happy, or he'd at least have trouble getting used to it or even considering it.

"Shit," Sam breathed, running a hand through his hair. "Wait, where is he now?"

"Um," Dean faltered. He looked down, avoiding Sam's gaze. "He said…he was going to go talk to Mrs. Milton."

"Oh my…_fuck_."

Sam surged up. Grabbing his coat again, he rushed towards the door.

"Sam, wait. Hold up!" Dean called, grabbing Sam's wrist just as he was about to leave. "What are you going to do?"

"Um…" He hesitated, shifting from one foot to another. What could he do? Stop Dad from talking to Mrs. Milton? He was probably already there. Try and tell him that none of it was true? Not really an option. "Run away?" Sam thought out loud, a little sheepishly. It seemed to be the best option at this point.

"Sam, no."

Dean scowled, using his 'big brother' tone. He pulled a little tighter on Sam's wrist, tugging it away from the door handle. "No," he added once again for effect.

"Well, what else do you suggest I do, Dean?" Sam asked loudly, exasperated.

"I don't know! Talk to him or something, Sammy, just don't be weird about this…"

"It's _Sam_," he interrupted scathingly, yanking his hand away from Dean's grasp. With one last look, Sam opened the door and stepped out into the night.

* * *

Sam wandered around for a good half an hour with no direction.

He really didn't want to head to Gabriel's house…what he found there he knew he wouldn't like. It was the right thing to do; to stand up to his problems and face his dad head on, but God help him, he couldn't do it.

He knew that what he needed right now was Gabriel.

Without realizing it, he found he'd wandered to the hill beside the park where they'd had the whole 'break-up-make-up-Lucifer' fiasco. He flopped down on the slightly damp grass, and rested his head in his hands.

What the fuck was he doing?

Never one for rational thought in heated moments, Sam had run away from his family just to sit on a freaking _hill_ and do shit all about the issues with his father. There was no way in Hell Sam was going to 'talk to him' like Dean had suggested, because he knew exactly how that conversation would go.

_Hey, Dad…so you found out I've been screwing around with my (psychic) best friend. And oh yeah he's a guy._

_I'm disappointed in you Sam. I really thought you'd get out of this hunting thing – you were going to be the son who settled down and gave me grandkids…I mean, Dean's not having any anytime soon…not intentionally anyway…_

_But Dad…you still love me right? _

_Sure. I mean, not as much as I would have if you'd been a manly man like I raised you to be. Not a girly man who sucks cock and goes around making kissy faces…_

"We don't go around making kissy faces, Sam!" He spun around where he sat, hearing the familiar voice behind him, speaking as though with a smirk. "And if that's supposed to be your Dad's voice you're doing a terrible impression."

Huh. Sam hadn't known he'd been speaking out loud.

"Gabe," he breathed in relief, clambering to his feet as fast as he could, and pulling Gabriel into a tight hug. He buried his face into Gabriel's hair, not wanting to let go.

They stood like that for God knows how long, before Sam finally pulled away, brushing his nose against Gabriel's. Smiling, he muttered against his lips:

"Run away with me."

There was silence then, Gabriel's eyes cracking open slowly. "Huh?"

"Run away with me!" Sam repeated, almost gleefully. He let go of Gabe and looked up into the sky, laughing loudly once. "Why didn't I think of this earlier? I mean," he grasped Gabriel's shoulders, "this gig isn't working for us, let's just…skip out of here!"

He had a huge grin on his face, like he was a kid at a carnival who'd won the big prize.

"You're…kidding, right?" Sam looked like he definitely wasn't kidding. "Right?"

Sam shook his head violently, his long hair flopping adorably over his eyes. "I'm totally serious…Gabe." He breathed his name like benediction, coming closer and bending over him, almost protectively. One arm curled around his waist, the other reached up to his jaw and stroked a thumb across it, tracing its line with a light feather-brush.

Gabriel's mouth fell a little slack, and Sam gave him what wasn't so much a kiss as a whisper-touch on his lips. It made him dizzy.

"Come on," Sam hissed, grasping his hand and grinning again. "You and I, against the world. We could," he sighed. "We could get our own place…" He looked out into the whale blue sky, into nothingness, creating a picture with his mind. "We wouldn't have to listen to our parents…I wouldn't have to be a hunter any more…" he added wistfully. He pulled Gabriel closer, placing a chaste kiss high on his cheekbone. "Paints a pretty picture, huh?"

"Sam," he said reluctantly, his voice hoarse. "You're insane, you know that?"

"No…seriously! We can do this, Gabe, we…"

"Sam."

He spoke as though chastising a child, voice stern, eyebrows knit together.

"Must I be the sensible one here? This is about your dad, right?" Sam nodded slowly. "Running away's not the answer, Sam."

"But…"

"Just…talk to him, okay?"

Sam let out a pathetic whine as he exhaled. "That's what Dean said…I _really_ don't want to, Gabe, he'll…" Sam sighed. "He'll be mad."

"Dude," he replied, looking Sam directly in the eyes and placing two hands on his shoulders. He looked truly imposing even though he was almost a head shorter than he was. "Trust me on this one. Your dad isn't going to care if you're gay, straight, bi, or transgender or whatever. He's going to care more that you didn't tell him before."

Sam wrinkled his brow, skeptical, but really he was just looking for a point to argue because he had the feeling Gabriel was right. "Really?"

"Yeah." Gabriel smiled, clapping him on the back. "Now come on, or do I have to talk you down from doing something else stupid, like slitting your wrists or something?"

"Dude."

"What?"

"…I may be into guys but that doesn't make me an emo chick."

"You're totally an emo chick."

"Shut up!" Sam grinned and swatted Gabriel playfully on the shoulder.

"Emo chick!" Gabriel taunted, running away over the damp grass.

"Candy whore!" Sam yelled, chasing him. He caught up with him soon enough, and when he did, tackled him on to the ground. They landed on top of each other, breathless and laughing, their chests so flush that Sam could practically _feel _Gabriel's heart beating.

Sam's hands were resting on the grass, either side of Gabriel's head. Without a second thought, Sam leaned down to press his lips to Gabriel's, receiving a needy whine in return. When Gabriel reached up to tangle a hand in Sam's hair, and a tongue teased at the seam of his lips, he couldn't help but smile.

He could run away all he wanted, but this? Right here? This was home.

* * *

They made it back to Gabriel's place only a little while later, and Sam looked nothing short of terrified when they pulled up outside.

Gabriel rested a hot, comforting hand in the small of his back all the way up the walkway to the front door, rubbing circles with his thumb. Before they got to the door, he gave Sam's hip a quick squeeze before letting go of it altogether.

Just as he was reaching for the handle, it turned and the door opened, revealing a kindly-smiling Mrs. Milton, and – to Sam's horror – John, looking a little perplexed.

Biting his lip, Gabriel tried to subtly slip inside, which wasn't so easily done considering he was the only one making noise and moving among three other still, silent people. Sam wanted more than anything to stop him; grab him, pull him close and never let go.

But this, he thought, looking directly into John's eyes, was something he had to do alone.

"Sam, I think we need to talk."

He thought he must have looked frightened, because as John stepped outside and Mrs. Milton moved to close the door behind him, she shot him a sympathetic smile. He tried to smile back and make it look like he was totally calm and collected, but yeah…he pretty much failed epically at that.

"Let's take a walk."

John's voice was clipped, his words short. He didn't look Sam in the eye and _holy crap _Sam was worried that he was going to disown him or abandon him in Pennsylvania or something.

Not that he showed any signs of wanting to disown Sam. In fact, as they walked, he said nothing, the chilly wind almost speaking for them – because this silence, long and awkward as it was, was most definitely chilly.

Sam chanced a few peeks over at his father, though mostly he just looked at the ground in front of him; sometimes John would open his mouth as though he was about to say something, but then close it again like he changed his mind.

They walked for a long time, and Sam would bet that neither of them really knew where they were going, but they sort of absent-mindedly strode around blocks and aimlessly continued walking around town.

Finally, John spoke:

"Do you love him? Gabriel…do you love him?"

Sam stopped in his tracks on the frozen ground, mouth hanging open a little as he stared at his father, who had stopped a few paces ahead of Sam, hands in his coat pockets and waiting for an answer.

_That _certainly wasn't what he'd been expecting.

His mouth formed words, but they were more words of questioning; of '_what the fuck?' _…but in any case, none actually made it all the way to being words. So instead he just tucked his cold fingers into his armpits and thought.

Was Sam in love? He'd never really thought he could be in love with another guy…not that he'd ever considered it before all this, before Gabriel.

But of course, with Gabriel, things were different. Things always were. In fact, Gabriel wouldn't be Gabriel if he didn't reject normality at every possible opportunity.

Sam found himself laughing at that thought. And, before he knew it, he found he was nodding, too.

"Yeah," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "Yeah, I think I do."

John said nothing for a moment, only his lips were twitching into the smallest of half-smiles. He looked almost…proud, and no, that definitely wasn't right.

After a minute, John stepped towards Sam, clapping him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy," he said, almost grinning now. "Now let's get back before we freeze our butts off."


	17. Bad Omens

Title: Too Close to the Ground  
Author: sarahlizzie  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel  
Spoilers/Warnings: All of s5/  
Word Count: ~ 2,580 (this chapter)  
Cred to: highermagic, 'cause she's beyond awesome. && theinsaneeraser who brainstormed with me when I got writer's block 3  
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.  
Chapter Summary: In which there are bombshells. Many.  
A/N: When highermagic read the first half of this, she started drooling. I'll take that as a compliment. (Also she came up with the knocked up joke. XD) I had so much fun writing the scene with the vision – you'll see why ;)

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

That Wednesday afternoon, Sam and Gabriel found themselves in the all too familiar situation of arriving at Gabriel's front door and having neither enough brainpower nor enough appendages – that weren't on each other – to actually get the door open.

Sam finally took pity on his boyfriend – and it totally _didn't _give Sam tingles to finally be able to say that – and grabbed the keys from Gabe's hand, which had just been trying to jam the wrong key in the door. Laughing against his lips, he peered down briefly to pick the correct key and shove it haphazardly into the lock, turning it as best he could.

They stumbled through the threshold, Gabriel grasping onto Sam's neck and making a face when he tripped. Sam, for his part, managed to brace himself on the door and hold them both up, before wrapping an arm around Gabriel's waist and sweeping him closer.

Brushing hair out of his face and grinning, Sam whispered a little huskily. "Is your mom home?"

"Wow, Sam," Gabriel began, chuckling. "If I had known you had a thing for my mom, I woulda backed off sooner!"

Smacking him over the head, Sam laughed out loud. "Ass," he added as an afterthought.

"Maybe so…" Gabriel wound a hand around Sam's neck and buried his fingers in the hair there. "But you still love me."

At that, Sam's breath hitched, and he swallowed, knowing only how true that was.

Unknowing of this, though, Gabriel buried his face in the crook of Sam's neck, lapping at it lovingly and leaving little bites. "We going upstairs, huh?" he whispered into Sam's ear.

As an answer, Sam just pulled back and grinned, grabbing Gabriel's wrist and tugging him impatiently upstairs.

When they reached the bed they collapsed onto it in tangles of limbs and (totally not girly) giggles, wrestling for the top as they usually did.

Sam won.

Straddling Gabriel's hips, he sat up, teasingly sliding his hands under the hem of Gabriel's shirt and lifting it off slowly. He just watched as he did so, with a sort of quiet awe. Once he'd gotten Gabriel topless, he began on himself, pulling off his own shirt and smiling lovingly.

When their next kiss was barely a brush of lips, Gabriel knew something was up.

"Sammy?"

"Gabey?"

Only taking a second to glare at him for the nickname, Gabriel continued. "What's up? I mean, usually you're rocking the 'gung ho, must have you _now_,' thing…but now you're all…" He wanted to say _tender _but that was the wrong word. "Uhh…soft."

Sam glanced briefly down at his crotch, then back up to Gabriel. "Um…"

"No, not that kind of soft!" Gabriel sat up, secretly loving the feeling of bare chest against bare chest. "Seriously…what's with all the 'oh so gentle'? Why're you taking your time?"

Sam paused, looking down, and then at the curtains, and then at the bedspread. "Look," he began, his voice hoarse. He looked Gabriel in the eye then, reaching up a hand to cup his jaw. "I have bad news."

Gabriel gave him a glaring look that said: 'Go on.'

"Gabe," Sam knew he must have looked distraught now. He sniffed once. "Gabe, I'm leaving on Sunday."

There was silence then – long and tense and horrible. Gabriel's gaze fell, lingering on the hand that was resting on Sam's chest. Sam just tensed, knowing that Gabriel would have to get used to this pretty big piece of bad news.

"Uhh," he finally said, coughing once before continuing. "Well, really I should have known this was coming, uhh…" Gabriel wrinkled his eyebrows together and lifted a hand to Sam's brow, stroking hair away. "I'm gonna miss you." He was totally at a loss of what else to say.

"Me too." Sam nuzzled into his palm, placing a light kiss on the inside of his wrist. His eyes slid shut, letting loose a single (manly) tear. "But look," he said, smiling and wiping away the tear. He took Gabriel's face in both his hands. "I'll visit you. As much as I can."

Gabriel just nodded, smiling along a little.

"Hey, in two years I'm gonna ditch those two anyway," Sam continued, a little excited now. "It's gonna be alright! We can…we can…go to college together! We'll…we'll get our own little place and we'll get a dog and…"

Gabriel laughed then, shaking his head. "Yeah, and what college?"

"Well…" Sam looked away. "I'm gunning for Stanford but…" he backtracked when Gabriel rolled his eyes and let out a little 'psh' noise. "I'll go to Penn State for you…or some community college or _something_, Gabe…" he shuffled closer, trying to get more contact, trying to sink into him so he wouldn't have to let go. "I don't care as long as I'm with you."

The confession was a breath against his lips, and he quickly closed the gap. The kiss was brief, but enough.

"Sam," he tried to say, but instead buried fingers in Sam's hair as he trailed kisses down his neck. "Hey!" he laughed when Sam nipped at the patch of skin between neck and shoulder. He peeled Sam reluctantly away by the hair. "If _you_ go to a community college because of _me_, someone's gonna think you knocked me up."

At that, Sam broke down into giggles, resting his head against Gabriel's shoulder. Soon he, too, was shaking with laughter and the two of them fell on to the bed, tears of earlier forgotten.

Somehow, Gabriel ended up on his back, legs spread, Sam nestled between them. Pants and shorts had been hurriedly shucked and tossed aside – so much for taking it slow – and Sam was pressed _oh so temptingly _against him.

Trailing his fingers down first Gabriel's torso, then over his abs, Sam took him gently in his hand. Gabriel shivered.

After just a few strokes, Gabriel was begging – for what, he didn't know; for _more, _for _harder. _Sam bent over his ear and Gabriel bucked helplessly into his fist: he loved it when Sam talked to him while he was doing this.

After taking the lobe of his ear briefly between his teeth, Sam whispered: "I'm leaving, so…we should make this count." It was less of a statement than an order, and Gabriel made a little whine of agreement in the back of his throat.

Sam continued his annoyingly slow strokes, made no better by Gabriel's desperate attempts to buck into his hand – every time he did so, Sam would hiss 'Shhh' in his ear and clamp his other hand down on his hip, probably hard enough to bruise.

"As for making this momentous," Sam murmured, pausing to bite down gently on the skin below Gabriel's ear. "What do you say?" He sped up his hand then, twisting it over the head, making him keen. "Do you think I could fuck you?"

Gabriel's eyes fluttered shut at that thought and his whole body arched up off the bed. Sam quieted him again, chuckling a little.

With a whine of protest from Gabriel, Sam's hand left his cock and trailed down further, first to cup his balls, then to press his thumb against his perineum. With the last ounce of brain power that wasn't used up on concentrating on _not _coming – _not now, damnit _– Gabriel flung his arm towards his bedside table and scrambled with the top drawer.

Out of it he pulled a small bottle, which he promptly threw at Sam – and that was enough of an answer for him. He chuckled. "Always prepared, huh?"

Gabriel grinned, nodding. "I'm a freaking boyscout," he said, as Sam excitedly squeezed a liberal amount onto his fingers.

"Hold up," Gabriel gasped, holding up a hand to stop him. "I'm kindof a…um…virgin _back there _so…" he laughed nervously. "Just fingers today, alright kiddo?" he finished, sounding a hell of a lot more confident than he felt.

Sam just smiled and nodded, fully understanding.

Leaning over to press wet kisses to the side of Gabriel's face, he brought his hand back down, dancing lightly over his entrance. The lube was cold and Gabriel shied away from the touch, though he immediately regretted it. Sam's voice was comforting in his ear, murmuring words like 'relax' and 'easy'.

Gabriel _did _relax and the tip of Sam's index finger slipped in easily. The feeling was quite alien – there was a dull burn as he pressed in further, not unpleasant but rather a little unexpected.

Sam hummed against his collarbone, sucking a bruise onto the skin as he pushed his finger in deeper. As if that weren't enough, Sam brushed the bundle of nerves inside him and Gabriel arched again in an explosion of sensation.

Almost reverently, and with a frustrating slowness, Sam pulled his finger almost all the way back. After a pause, he slid it back in, hitting Gabriel's prostate once more – that was when Gabriel lost it: he let out a string of curses and random words, some of which he wasn't even sure were even English.

He grasped onto Sam's hair, briefly regretting that he wouldn't be able to do that much longer, but that thought was pushed out of his mind when he repeated the action. "Sam," he gasped, pulling the other boy into a desperate kiss. "More," was all he said when they broke away, gesturing vaguely.

Sam seemed to get the message though; leaning back to watch as he gently pressed a second finger inside. Gabriel gasped at the fullness, pushing himself back onto Sam's fingers, searching for the friction he really wanted. Far away, Sam groaned, watching where his fingers disappeared into Gabriel's body. His own cock was heavy and neglected, leaking precome when he watched Gabriel lift up his knees so he could get a better view.

Sam groaned again, eyes darkening. "Fuck it," he growled, wrapping his other hand around Gabriel's cock. Gabriel bucked again into his fist, swearing – he was so close; Sam could do magical things with his fingers. As soon as he felt his thighs tense and his back arch he knew he was done for.

Sam milked him through his orgasm, white ropes of come staining his chest and Sam's hand. After coming back down, he watched Sam stripping his own cock like his life relied on it. After only a half dozen more strokes he was coming too, fingers still buried in Gabriel's ass, hair messier than normal and sweat streaked across his brow.

He looked a debauched mess – they both probably did.

Using the last bit of his brain that hadn't shot out of his dick, Gabriel scooched over to let Sam collapse on the bed next to him, quietly catching his breath. Sam rolled lazily over after a minute, placing kisses along the side of Gabriel's face and neck, and trailing slow fingers through the mess on his stomach.

Gabriel shivered as he watched Sam lick his fingers clean. He just watched him for a moment, before pulling him closer and placing a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm gonna miss this," he mumbled, burying his face in Sam's hair.

"We can still have it," Sam said adamantly. He nuzzled closer to Gabriel, his hand traveling aimlessly over his neck and through his hair. Gabriel felt he could just lie there forever, basking in the pale Spring sunlight seeping through his window, clinging on to Sam like he'd never have to let go.

"Can you stay?" he whispered, rubbing circles on Sam's right shoulder. "Right now, I mean…do you have to get back to Dean now?"

Sam just shook his head, hairs tickling Gabriel's nose. "No." He chuckled. "Knowing him, he's probably just lounging around the motel room watching _Casa Erotica_ or something."

There was silence for a few seconds – Sam knew the smell of that silence. It was vaguely ozone, and smelt a little bit like sugar, though that might just have been the smell that Gabriel had around him wherever he went. Either way, Sam knew that smell…and it smelt like another vision.

Sam sat up swiftly and cradled Gabriel in his arms before the headache even began, and he was ready for the cries of pain – though he would never get used to the way he would try to calm him down and have it not make any difference.

"_I need…_Casa Erotica."

_He's watching a porno. A Goddamned porno. All of his visions have been of creepy men with wings and Satan and stuff, but…no, this time, he's watching a porno. _

_So, he figures, he might as well just sit back and enjoy the ride. _

_Except…oh, _damn_. He's in this porno. He, Gabriel, as an adult, is starring in a porno. Awkwarrd. He has his hair slicked back and there is this huge black moustache taped to his face – seriously, who comes up with this shit? _

_And – although he's happy his older self gets in the sack with the pretty blonde chick – where is this going?_

_Then he turns to face the camera. "Sam…Dean."_

_What the Hell even…_

"_You're probably wondering what the Hell's going on."_

_Uh, yeah. Care to explain, oh older self porn star? _

_Porn star just stares at him like an asshole – and yeah, Gabe admits he's kinda an asshole – and rips off his moustache. _

"_Well…if you're watching this…"_

_The world spins and he loses the image, but he can still hear the last two words his older self says as a distant echo._

"…_I'm dead."_

_The vision changes, and he's in a big room, furnished elegantly. The furniture's all screwed to Hell though, and the ballroom's empty – there's only two people in there._

_Well – he soon finds out – one person (maybe, he's got some issues with his face…gross) and one ex-person, lying spread-eagled on the floor with a fucking huge sword sticking out of his chest. _

_Only…that's not just any ex-person. That's _himself_, lying there, dead. _

_Oh, God._

"Shh-hh, it's ok."

Gabriel's eyes flickered open, and he found himself cradled in Sam's lap, a hand stroking gently through his hair. A gust of air made him realize he'd been sweating like God only knows what, and…well. He had a right to.

"Notebook," he choked out, his throat burning. Then, as an afterthought: "Water!"

Setting him gently down, Sam grabbed both, running with light footsteps back to Gabriel's bedside. He immediately grabbed the notebook and began to draw, sketching out roughly what he'd seen: a man – _himself, holy crap _– lying dead on the ground, a giant pair of majestic black wings seared onto the wood behind him.

"Gabriel," whispered Sam, barely audible. "Who's that?" He pointed at the body.

"Me," Gabriel whimpered pathetically. God, he sounded like he was about to cry. There had been just one too many surprises today. Sam grabbed for the paper, almost ripping it out of the notebook.

"You?" He choked, running his fingers first over the body, then tracing the wings. He looked up into Gabriel's eyes, worry brimming over.

"I don't know what's worse," Gabriel shrugged – the cockiness was back. "…If my murderer's MO is painting giant black wings on the ground…or if his face looks like it's lost a fight with a food processor." He laughed, though the sound was humorless and weak.

All Sam did was stand up and pull Gabriel into a tight hug, burying his face in his shoulder.

"I'm not gonna let you die," he promised, speaking the words into his neck.

Even coming from Sam, that didn't make him feel any better.

HOWDY GUYS. So…any of you wonderful, eccentric people on Twitter? Awesome! I'm sarahlizzie – go ahead and follow me. And if you already are, you WIN PRIZES! :D Also, if you have requests for any timestamps, feel free to tell me about your ideas in the comments. Or on Twitter, if the mood so takes you. *smiles serenely*


	18. Eighteen Going on Infinity

**Spoilers/Warnings: All of s5**  
**Cred to: highermagic, 'cause she's beyond awesome. && theinsaneeraser who brainstormed with me when I got writer's block 3**  
**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. I also don't own Jell-o. Well, I _do_, just…not the company. I own a few packs of Jell-o. Mmm, Jell-o. XP**  
**Chapter Summary: In which I am EBIL! :)**  
**A/N: Ok so I totally cheated and I'm using this for the 'candlelight sex' square on my schmoop_bingo card. So sue me.**

* * *

It was Saturday night, and both Sam and Gabriel had tried everything – up to and including trying to convince John to let Sam finish his Junior year at William Penn and stay at Gabriel's.

He'd said no. Then Sam had stormed out, only to return half an hour later with a tub of Ben & Jerry's and a very grumpy expression.

So, as compensation, Gabriel's parents had kindly decided to go out, and Dean had reluctantly offered to babysit Anna. Sam was sure she wouldn't mind playing go fish with Dean in the motel room the whole night. So long as Dean didn't show her the wonders of pay-per-view he guessed they'd be fine.

Gabriel's room was dotted with candles, tiered on bookshelves, windowsills, tables. It was perfect.

Perfect for their last night together in God only knew how long.

"Thank you," he whispered as a prayer against Gabriel's lips, hands cupping his cheeks. "I love it."

He dipped down just a little to brush their lips together, smoothing a hand through his hair. When he pulled back, he smiled sadly. He was going to miss this.

He was going to miss seeing Gabriel every day; he was going to miss his crazy little mood changes and the way he snapped his fingers when he was nervous. He was going to miss Gabriel's pathetic romantic side – the side that gave him candles and dinner dates and kissed him on the cheek before running off to class.

He was going to miss _him _– the thought hit him like a ton of bricks to the chest.

Sliding his arms around Gabriel's neck, he pulled him close and into a hug. Gabriel buried his face in Sam's shoulder and held him around his waist. He squeezed as tightly as he possibly could.

Then Sam made a (mostly) involuntary noise of protest at being squeezed and they both dissolved into giggles.

The giggles turned into kisses, which turned into nips along Sam's jaw and an ache building in his stomach that tasted of desire. He was reduced to his baser instincts: _want need must have your skin on mine, your lips on mine._

"Too many clothes," Sam complained in a growl. Gabriel clearly concurred, nodding his head enthusiastically, and reaching up to slide Sam's jacket from his shoulders.

A few fumbled attempts at undressing later, they were both bare-chested, pressed up against each other as closely as possible. Gabriel's kisses started to stray to his jaw and neck, muttering words into his skin.

"Oh, God…" he mouthed into Sam's neck, making the skin buzz with the words and a thrum of want pulse through Sam.

As his kisses trailed down past his collarbone, he moaned: "Sammy…" The word was low and drawn out, and Sam was gasping by the time he lapped at a nipple. He twisted his fingers into Gabriel's hair, cradling his skull as he licked and sucked lower.

"God…gonna miss you," he murmured, and he was on his knees by now, sucking a bruise onto Sam's hip. When he pulled away, Sam spared a second to brush a thumb over the rapidly-forming bruise and put a little pressure on it – he liked that; he'd have a reminder of Gabriel and tonight for few days at least. Crap. He was clutching at straws here. "So fucking much…"

"Me…uhh…too," Sam stuttered out, because now Gabriel was fumbling with his button. He had enough brain power to fumble behind him and reach for something behind him before Gabriel unzipped his fly and pulled his dick out.

"Gabriel," he gasped, combing his hands through his hair as he jacked Sam's cock a little.

"Yeah," he replied, half question, half reassurance. "I'm here, Sam," he mumbled, stroking Sam's thigh through his jeans, before licking a slow stripe up his cock.

Sam shouldn't have looked down. He really shouldn't have, because when he did, what he saw was Gabriel looking up at him with a look of pure decadence and sin; of temptation and desire. Looking up at him with hazel eyes made of fire, a smirk formed on Gabriel's lips, before they closed around the head of Sam's cock – his eyes never once left Sam's.

In the interest of _not _immediately jizzing, Sam had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of something other than the delicious suction Gabriel was creating with his mouth. But _oh…_he did this thing with his tongue – something Sam still hadn't gotten used to, no matter how often they'd done this – pointing it and teasing the slit. If Gabriel didn't watch it he'd have Sam coming before they'd hardly even started.

Just then, Gabriel opened up his throat and took Sam as far as he could, his nose pressed up against the denim and brass of his fly. Sam could feel the muscles in his throat working around the head, and the only thing holding him back from thrusting into that beautiful wet heat was Gabriel's palms on his hips, half-pressing on the bruise he'd just received.

He tried to though, and the tiny movement made Gabriel give a low groan and palm his own erection through his jeans.

"You like that?" Sam asked, his voice hoarse as though he hadn't spoken for days. As a response, Gabriel groaned low again, a wanton sound that Sam could feel in his bones. "Want me to _nngh_…" he paused when Gabriel gripped the curve of his ass and pulled him in, "…use your mouth?"

As best he could, Gabriel nodded, closing his eyes and moaning again.

If Sam didn't die from this, he was totally going to repay the favor.

Gently cradling Gabriel's head with both hands, and weaving his fingers into his hair, Sam gave a small thrust into Gabriel's mouth, gentle though egged on by the hands on his ass pulling him in.

Sam couldn't stand it any more. Even though he was certain his legs would give out from the sheer hotness of the scene in front of his eyes, he began to move his hips steadily, keeping Gabriel's head immobile as he watched his cock slide in and out from in between his lips, shiny and slick with spit.

Gabriel groaned his approval and when Sam could tear his gaze away from his mouth long enough, he could see that he was palming his own cock, still trapped in his jeans.

The thought that Gabriel was getting off on this almost as much as Sam was made his hands grasp harder onto his hair, and for half a dozen thrusts, pump his hips into his mouth just this side of brutal. Like a slow burn, Sam felt his orgasm wash through him, making his knees go weak and tingles run through his body like he'd been electrocuted.

Gabriel's tongue worked around his cock as he came, still pulling on his ass to make him keep thrusting through his orgasm. Sucking as though his life depended on it, he swallowed every drop of Sam's come. Sam's head had been somewhere else entirely, but when he came back to himself, he found he'd been spurting filth as he came, interspersed with cries of Gabriel's name.

Gabriel moaned as he lapped at Sam's softening cock, grinning like – if you'll pardon the expression – the cat who got the cream. The over-stimulation was too much for Sam's knees (which by now resembled Jell-o) and he half-collapsed so he was level with Gabriel, pulling him in for a heated kiss. He'd have enough jack-off fantasies for months now.

"You?" Sam gestured, breathless, to Gabriel's crotch, where he was still hard. When Gabriel didn't say anything, Sam reached towards him and pressed his palm against his erection.

"No," Gabriel gasped out, though it was obvious it pained him to do so. "Wanna save it."

"Huh?"

With a grin, and saying nothing else, Gabriel picked himself up by his knees and crawled over to his bedside drawer. He pulled something out of it, and though Sam couldn't see what it was, he could feel the indent of the latex ring as Gabriel came close and pressed it into his chest.

Crowding in close, Gabriel kissed him deeply, tongue sliding hypnotically against Sam's. He moaned into the kiss, wanting to commit the taste of Gabriel and the taste of himself on Gabriel's tongue to memory. Still there was that insistent circular press into his chest – once his brain committed to concentrating on something other than Gabriel's tongue in his mouth, he figured out what it meant, and his dick gave a valiant twitch.

"How about it?" Gabriel asked breathlessly when he pulled away, nuzzling against Sam's nose and tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. "Huh? I'm ready," he wheedled, almost tauntingly, moving to straddle Sam's hips; a silent 'Are _you _ready?'

And fuck yeah, Sam was ready.

As a response, Sam let out a needy little whine – which he'd deny later – and shuffled closer to Gabriel, despite their bodies being flush already. Sealing their lips together in a messy kiss, Sam slid an arm around his back, almost cradling the smaller boy against him.

With the tips of his fingers, he traced the curve of Gabriel's spine, sending shivers through him. With a gasp, Gabriel bucked forward and closer to Sam. He ate up the little noises that Gabriel made as his fingers traveled lower over his spine to the small of his back. The fact that the touches made Gabriel buck his hips towards him and rub his still-clothed cock against Sam's hip didn't make him any quieter.

"You wanna, Sam?" Gabriel asked in a whisper, now that Sam's fingers were tracing the very top of his jeans. Sam just nodded, placing a kiss on Gabriel's forehead and holding him close for a prolonged moment.

"So, so much, Gabe," he muttered against his skin. "Love you."

* * *

"John."

John suddenly looked up from the book he'd been reading, searching for the source of the voice. It wasn't either of his two boys; they were both out. After several moments of silence, he shook his head. It must have been a trick.

Besides, John Winchester knew better than to listen to voices in his head.

"John, I need to talk to you."

And that definitely wasn't a trick. It was a male voice speaking, ethereal and other-worldly. He thought he recognized the voice, from a dark abyss of his past.

His mind jumped to 'spirit', and he calmly and deftly loaded the sawed-off he always kept nearby. His mind whirred around, to places he'd rather forget: that poor unarmed man he hadn't meant to kill in 'Nam; the people he'd let get killed while he was hunting. Any number of people could be haunting him.

"What do you want?" he asked the voice calmly, the whole time knowing he sounded a little stupid talking to himself.

The voice spoke slowly and reverently. "I need your help."

"Why should I help you?" John hissed, adding: "Who _are _you?"

"It is within your interests to help me," the voice said smoothly and cryptically. John just glared at the thin air. It didn't answer the second question.

"Why?" John asked flatly, standing up and cocking the gun.

"…Sammy's in trouble."

There was silence then; John's eyes widened. He glanced around the room, stalking silently around it and looking for clues as to where the voice was coming from.

"Trouble how?" he asked, peering around the corner and aiming his gun behind one of the beds.

"He is in the grips of a very powerful supernatural creature."

John paused. As far as he knew, Sam was over at Gabriel's place. He narrowed his eyes.

"I can help him," the voice spoke again. "I just need you to say 'yes'."

What kind of spirit or demon asked permission? He shook his head slightly, both in disbelief and as a rejection.

"Please, John."

"Who _are _you?"

"If I tell you who I am, will you promise to let me help Sammy?"

If Sam really was in trouble, John'd do anything.

"…Yes. Fine, yes. Who are you?" he asked for the third time.

"My name is Michael."

There was a glowering silence.

"_What _are you?" John hissed through his teeth.

"I'm an Archangel of the Lord."

* * *

HOWDY GUYS. So…any of you wonderful, eccentric people on Twitter? Awesome! I'm sarahlizzie – go ahead and follow me. And if you already are, you WIN PRIZES! :D Also, if you have requests for any timestamps, feel free to tell me about your ideas. Or tell me on Twitter, if the mood so takes you. *smiles serenely*


	19. Livin' a Teenage Dream

Title: Too Close to the Ground  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel  
Spoilers/Warnings: All of s5  
Word Count: ~ 1,860 (this chapter)

_A/N: So basics it's been a while. A long while, and I apologize. I don't expect you to remember the exact details of the last chapter, so here's a quick summary._

_It's Sam's last night in town so he and Gabe have finally decided to take it to third base, and Sam let slip that he's in love with Gabriel. Meanwhile, John's just accidentally said 'yes' to Michael, and some shit's about to go down._

_

* * *

_

Being in love, Sam thought, was much like having a man with a very large steel fist dig his fingers into your chest and pull you along by your ribcage. You were driven by that ache, willingly following it and completely happy about the fact that you had no choice in the matter whatsoever.

The boy straddling Sam's hips was the source, and Sam wanted to be closer to him, as though the steel fist was somehow attached to Gabriel, too. And yeah, Sam decided he liked that idea.

"What did you say?"

Sam smiled at Gabriel's confused face, a little rut drawn between his eyes. Sam stroked it away.

"I said," he might have been just about to fuck up the best thing he'd had in a while, but he didn't care, because it was so, so true. "I love you."

An odd look fell over Gabriel's face, half-contemplation, half-shock. Sam continued to stroke the stress from between his eyebrows, until his hand found itself slowing and stopping. He just left his hand there, cupping his boyfriend's face.

"God, Sam," Gabriel finally whispered, before pulling him in for a kiss, soft and sweet (he didn't even _try _to use tongue this time). They paused like that, for a prolonged second, simply enjoying the feeling of each others' lips.

Sam had spent many intimate moments with Gabriel, but none of them as intimate as this one.

"Sammy…" Gabriel said reverently, muttering into Sam's mouth. His lips spread into a smile, and he took Sam's upper lip between his, briefly biting down on it. "I love you, too."

The steel fist tugged a little harder.

"How long?"

Gabriel's chest was flush against Sam's, and Sam thought he could feel Gabriel's heart beating nearly as hard as his own.

"About…since the moment I met you."

With a bright smile, he grasped the back of Gabriel's neck and pulled him close to pepper his face and neck with kisses, muttering little 'I love you's and grinning the whole time.

"Sammy…" Gabriel whined, bashful at the praise. Sam chuckled and brushed the hair back from his face, pecking him on the nose.

With a smirk, Gabriel shifted his hips forward a little, pressing his still-clothed and needy erection into Sam's hip, and letting out a low keen.

"Fuck, Gabe…" Sam muttered, suddenly remembering, and running curled-up fingertips over the skin of Gabriel's back. He bucked towards the heat surrounding him, feeling his own cock begin to take interest. With shaking fingers, he undid Gabriel's belt buckle and lifted the boy to pull his jeans off.

He palmed him through his boxers, leaning down to suck a bruise on Gabriel's pulse point. Gabriel swore and clung to his shoulders, before his hands moved down, trying to unfasten Sam's own jeans.

There followed a quick cascade into nakedness, a few more kisses quickly turned filthy, and an attempt at a subtle grab for the lube on the bedside table. It failed, causing Gabriel to fall over backwards and the two of them to tumble to the ground in a pile of laughter.

* * *

Michael took a look at his new vessel. It was nothing new, to be entirely accurate; he'd already been inside this body, and not a whole lot had changed. Perhaps the appearance, and a coldness to the man's soul that hadn't been there before.

_John,_ Michael said, scolding, to the man in his head, the man whose body he now inhabited. _Just calm down. This is what's best for Sam._

_Fuck you._

John banged on the walls of the cage inside his own head, looking at what his body was seeing as if through a tunnel. _Fuck you straight to Hell, Michael, or whoever you are. If you dare touch Sammy, you dirty son of a bitch…_

"Calm yourself, John. This will be far easier on both of us if you don't argue."

Michael spoke out loud, his voice smoother and of a lower register than John's normal voice.

_Shut up! Get out of me!_

In a blink, Michael stood before the Miltons' household, John momentarily silenced by the teleportation.

"This is what you wanted, John," Michael said coldly, looking up at the house, to a room on the top floor whose window was glowing with candlelight. "This is what you wished for, isn't it?"

_No,_ John begged. _Please, no. Don't hurt him. Don't hurt either of them…!_

"I make no promises that I can't keep, John. I'm sorry."

* * *

Once Sam had the smaller boy on his back, he pressed him down and wouldn't let him move, leaning down and breathing hotly over the bulge in his boxers. He mouthed the head through the cotton, making the wet patch even wetter. There was a gentle mantra of 'fuck fuck fuck fuck…' from somewhere above him, but for now, all he cared about was the addictive taste of Gabriel on his tongue.

Slowly, and once he'd replaced the Gabriel's taste on the fabric with the taste of his own spit, he pulled down the boxers, immediately wrapping his fingers around the base of Gabriel's cock and giving it one swift lick.

"Shit, Sam…" came the wanton cry, as Gabriel tangled fingers into Sam's hair. Sam only suckled briefly at the head though, before stooping low to take one of Gabriel's balls into his mouth. He rolled it around a little, and looked up to see Gabriel watching his every move with wide eyes.

Keeping eye contact, Sam let his ball slip from between his lips, before slipping a finger inside his mouth. Gabriel let out a groan, letting Sam know he'd guessed what was about to happen.

Sam hadn't forgotten the condom lying a few feet away, and he wanted nothing more than to take this last step before he left. Despite the warning, Gabriel still tensed when Sam pressed the pad of his spit-slicked finger gently against his hole.

He tried to calm him by placing an open-mouthed kiss against his thigh, and telling him softly to 'Shh, relax.'

Gabriel tried to, and Sam managed to get the tip of his finger inside Gabriel's tight pucker. With a smirk (and using techniques he'd picked up watching all that gay porn for research) Sam flicked out his tongue and licked around his finger.

Sure, it tasted like ass. It honestly wasn't the best thing Sam had ever tasted, but it wasn't the worst either, and Gabriel's reaction more than made up for the taste. He fumbled for the lube, still licking around Gabriel's rim, and slowly relaxing him so he could push his finger in a little further.

Once he'd reached the lube he squirted a generous amount onto both the finger already inside Gabriel – _fuck_, he'd never get over how hot that was – and the others on that hand.

He rubbed soothing circles into Gabriel's hip, and Gabriel relaxed, letting his finger in more. Soon enough, he was in to the root, that impossible heat squeezing down against the intrusion, and Sam almost came from the thought of that same heat around his cock.

Holding his breath, Sam ever-so-slowly crooked his finger upwards, almost immediately hitting what he'd been aiming for.

Gabriel keened high, bucking his hips further onto Sam's finger and his own hand flying to the base of his cock to keep himself from coming.

"Fuck, Sammy, Sammy…" he whined, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. "More, _please_…"

Sam was only too happy to obey.

A second lubed-up finger pushed in alongside the first. Gabriel swore again, pushing back and silently begging for more. Two fingers became three soon enough, and Sam slid up Gabriel's body to kiss his jawline and tell him what a good boy he'd been.

Gabriel whined when Sam removed his fingers, grasping at his shoulders. Sam took an earlobe in between his lips, running his tongue over it. "Come on," he whispered soothingly. "Sit up. Want you to ride me."

"God, yes…"

Sam's breath was coming faster now, in synch with Gabriel's, as the smaller boy shakily lifted himself to straddle Sam's thighs. Sucking in a breath, Sam ripped open and rolled on the condom, before wrapping his arms around Gabriel and mouthing his collarbone.

"You ready?"

"Fuck, yes, Sammy, _please,_ want you…want you so bad…" Gabriel pleaded, positioning himself over Sam's cock.

Sam hissed in a breath when the head began to breach the tight muscle, burying itself deep into the slick heat of Gabriel's body. He didn't breathe again until he was buried all the way, his balls nestled against the skin of Gabriel's ass.

"_Fuck…_"

Sam wanted to move _so badly_, thrust up into that tight heat and make Gabriel scream his name. He stopped himself, just barely, watching Gabriel's eyelids flutter as he got used to the sensation. The smaller boy bit his lip, hard.

"Does it hurt?" Sam finally asked, his voice strained. Gabriel nodded, not opening his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, even quieter, a hand reaching up to stroke Gabriel's brow. He shivered a little and smiled, before nodding.

Very, very slowly, almost like a slow motion scene in a movie, Gabriel shifted his hips.

Both let out deep groans, filling the air between them with their damp breaths. Then, with a grin that lit up his face, Gabriel grasped onto Sam's neck and did the same again, only faster this time, and this time, he didn't stop.

The rocking circle of Gabriel's hips had Sam hypnotized, and soon he was burying his face in Gabriel's neck and simply enjoying the sensations. God, this was perfect. He told Gabriel so.

"_You_'re perfect," he countered, tugging a little on Sam's hair and speeding up his movements.

They were both hurtling towards the finish line here, Sam could tell. Of their own volition, Sam's hips began to move, finally thrusting up into Gabriel's body, aiming for that spot that had made Gabriel react so violently before.

He knew he'd found it from the way Gabriel's hips stuttered. The bucks of his hips became arrhythmic, and he found Sam's mouth, appreciatively tongue-fucking him as soon as their lips met. He keened into Sam's mouth.

Sam was close too, only a few more of those sinful twists of hips, only a few more of Gabriel's desperate noises filling his ears and he'd be gone.

He just closed his eyes and let himself feel.

Sam could tell when Gabriel began to come from the way he buried his face in Sam's neck and bit hard to muffle his shout. The muscles around Sam's cock fluttered and clenched, and soon Sam was losing it too, pushing up into that pliant body and hearing distantly the breathy mutters of his name into his neck.

The first thing Sam felt after what felt like years of stillness and silence, was the gentle but wet kiss Gabriel placed on the corner of his mouth. He kissed back, tasting Gabriel's tongue slow and steady, still not daring to open his eyes in case none of this was real.

The next thing he felt was feathers.

Running his hands over Gabriel's shoulders, his hands soon came into contact with fistfuls and fistfuls of huge, soft feathers.

"Holy crap…"

A/N: Teehee X3 Hope y'all like this update, sorry again it was so long in coming!


End file.
